


Beating Heart

by themayqueen



Series: Audience Series [2]
Category: Hanson
Genre: Alcohol, Bisexual Male Character, Gay Male Character, Incest, M/M, Marijuana, Sibling Incest, Tour Bus, Touring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-09 20:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 71,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1996293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themayqueen/pseuds/themayqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zac never wanted to be the person he is now, and he doesn’t know whether to blame himself or Taylor. More than anything, he just wants to fix his mistakes and feel normal again, but he’s not sure normal is possible for him and Taylor anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Two Weeks

Two weeks, he said.

Two fucking weeks apart.

In our entire lives up to that point, I was certain Taylor and I had never spent that long apart. I was fully aware of how ridiculous it was for a nearly twenty-five year old man to be incapable of spending two weeks without his older brother.

But then, Taylor and I weren’t exactly normal brothers.

That was my fault, and I knew it. Maybe the first drunken act had been his fault, just one of those stupid things you do when you’re blacked out not because you really want to but because you’re just that damn drunk, but I was the one who clung to the memory. I was the one who was sick and twisted and in love or lust or something with my own damn brother. I was the one who pushed and pushed until he gave in.

And then he gave all he had, I supposed.

So we were spending two weeks apart. It was his request, because somehow, he’d decided that would fix things. I didn’t argue with him, because how could I? When Taylor made up his mind, it was rarely effective to question him. I already knew it would have no effect on me, but if it fixed him, then I supposed it would be worth it. But I had lived with this for ten years. I knew without question that it wasn’t going to change. I would always want him in ways I shouldn’t. Two weeks wouldn’t change a damn thing.

To my surprise, Taylor betrayed his own plan and showed up at my door eight days into our time apart. I had spent the past week holed up in my apartment, playing the hermit like only I could. Even though my apartment was downtown and within walking distance of our offices and plenty of restaurants, I spent our small break playing video games, ordering takeout and wearing the same pajamas for days in a row. It was childish, I knew, but if I couldn’t see Taylor, I didn’t want to see anyone.

When the buzzer alerted me that I had a visitor, I rang them in without even stopping to see who it might have been. My pizza was on its way, so I assumed it was the pizza delivery boy. I was mistaken. I swung the door open, a fistful of bills already in my hand ready to shove at the pizza guy in lieu of any sort of conversation, only to find myself face to face with Taylor.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked.

Taylor scowled in that overdramatic way he’d perfected over the years. Behind his back, we call it the bitchface, but I would never dare say that to his face. Unless I was really angry. With a huff, he said, “Well, it’s nice to see you, too.”

“Taylor,” I relied, drawing the word out in frustration. “You were the one who decided that we needed to spend some time apart. So what, exactly, am I supposed to think of you just turning up at my door like a lost little puppy dog?”

“I was just… I mean…” Taylor stuttered out. “It’s just…”

Watching him struggle like that, I did feel bad for being so short with him. I just really didn’t understand why he was doing this. Was he toying with me by coming here? Did he expect sex? He knew I wouldn’t refuse him if he did, even if I had been the one to demand it every other time. Had he changed his mind about spending time apart? I just didn’t know, and his stuttering was providing me with no answers at all.

“I was just… wondering if you had any weed,” he finally mumbled, his eyes locked in an intense staring contest with his shoes.

My stomach dropped to the floor, or so it felt. I’d gotten my hopes up that Taylor actually wanted me. Even if it was just for sex, it would have been better than nothing. I would gladly let him use my body if I could pretend for just a few short minutes that it meant something to him, too. Being used for my drugs, though? Well, that just made me feel cheap. And I didn’t like feeling cheap.

“Well?” He asked. “I mean, just if you’ve got any extra… you don’t have to buy any more for me or anything, it’s just that I don’t know any dealers anymore, so…”

I nodded, pressing my fingers against my temple in an attempt to stave off the headache I could feel coming on. Taylor’s rambles tended to have that effect even at the best of times. I stepped back to let him into the apartment, against my better judgment, and replied, “I can spare a dime, I guess. I haven’t really… stocked up for the rest of the tour or anything.”

Taylor’s brow furrowed in what I assumed was contemplation, then he nodded. “Yeah, okay. I guess that will be enough. I just need… you know, just to relax or whatever.”

“Just wait here and I’ll get it,” I replied, deciding against pointing out that I was sure I needed to relax more than he did.

That wasn’t really fair, though. Taylor’s life had been turned completely upside down in the past two months, and I was fully aware that I was to blame for it. As if loving and wanting him wasn’t enough, I now had the pleasure of beating myself up for ruining the first relationship he’d had in years, too. And all the while, Taylor was using me for sex and drugs, and I was letting him.

I hadn’t really been at my finest during this tour, and while I hated being apart from Taylor, this break was actually the little breather than I needed. At least, it had been until Taylor showed up begging for pot.

Leaving Taylor alone in the living room, I headed for my bedroom where I kept one of my many little stash boxes. Most of them were either packed up on the bus, running empty or both, but I knew I had a little bit tucked away in the bottom of a dresser drawer, just in case. It wasn’t especially fresh and sniffing it told me that it definitely wasn’t the highest quality, but I really didn’t care. Even in my best of moods, it would take a hell of a lot to get me to share the good shit with Taylor.

Who am I kidding? If he asked, I’d give him anything. I’d live to regret it, but I’d do it.

I grabbed a pack of rolling papers, figuring that Taylor would probably need a little help in that area, and headed back to the living room. He was standing awkwardly in the middle of it, exactly where I’d left him. Without a word, I took a seat on the couch and emptied the baggie of weed onto the coffee table. I could feel Taylor’s eyes on me as I broke it up, picking out the seeds and getting it ready to be rolled up into a couple of nice little joints. I could only hope Taylor would appreciate the effort I was putting in for him, but I doubted that he would.

He remained completely silent as I rolled the joints for him, and barely even managed to mumble a thank you when I handed the finished product to him. If he didn’t want me to feel used, he was doing a piss poor job of showing his appreciation.

“Well, umm…” he finally said, tucking the joints into his pocket and rocking back and forth on his feels. “I guess, umm, I’ll see you in about a week.”

“Yeah. I guess you will.” I replied, crossing my arms over my chest.

It was strange. I had missed Taylor so much, but now that he was there, I just wanted him gone. He seemed to take the hint, and after stuttering out another goodbye, he was out the door.

I honestly didn’t know what I had expected from him, or even what I had wanted. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. I wanted him to see the feelings I had for him, but he seemed to be willfully ignorant of them. Maybe he just truly didn’t understand. That was the explanation I hoped for; it was the only possible justification for how he could continue to treat me the way he did.

But even if he didn’t realize I loved him, surely he had some sort of brotherly instinct not to treat me like shit? If he did, he was doing a good job of ignoring it.

How could he understand it, though? Even I didn’t truly understand. Being in love with my own brother just made no sense at all. If it hadn’t been my reality for the past decade, I wouldn’t have thought it was possible. I was the horrible living proof that it was, though.

For years, I had blamed Taylor. He had persuaded me to drink with him and then practically forced himself on me. That wasn’t true, though. I had wanted it. I was a curious fourteen year old boy. With alcohol in my system, how could I refuse any sort of sex? That was exactly how I ended up losing my virginity just a few weeks later to my girlfriend at the time. I’d admitted to Taylor that she and I had barely even touched, but I hadn’t admitted to him _why_.

Even after that night with Taylor, I tried to ignore the truth. I did a pretty good job of it, too. I even managed to get another girlfriend and go on a few dates with other girls. But the sex… the sex never improved after that sloppy drunken night with Marion. It was only ever something I did because I knew it was expected of me. I was supposed to want to sleep with the women I dated, wasn’t I?

But I didn’t want them. I wanted Taylor.

I was never really sure what the exact cause and effect relationship was. I suppose had to just been too young at the time to be certain. Did I want Taylor because I was gay? Or was I gay because I wanted Taylor? I decided to blame him, but over time it because obvious that it wasn’t just about him.

Still, it was _mostly_ about him.

I had little to no interest in dating anyone else, male or female. No one was Taylor. They couldn’t even come close. I tried to lock those feelings away, because I could see they were useless. Taylor didn’t date. Taylor didn’t love. He just fucked. I didn’t think that would ever change… and then he met Seamus.

The jealousy I’d felt when he announced his engagement to Natalie was nothing compared to how it felt to realize that he had genuine feelings for Seamus. I think I saw it before Taylor did; he was falling in love with him. At first, I was just angry to see Taylor with someone else, but then I descended into desperation.

I knew what I did was bad. I knew it was wrong. And I didn’t give a fuck.

If I couldn’t make Taylor mine, I decided that I could at least prove that no one else would ever really have him. It took days to work up the nerve to make my move. Taylor and I had never spoken of that blow job; what if he had absolutely no interest in me? I didn’t know, but it was a risk I was willing to take. I couldn’t imagine a world in which Taylor would turn down sex, no matter who was offering it, and I was right. The fact that I was his brother obviously bothered him, given all the times that he tried to break things off, but he always came back to me.

Somehow, it didn’t feel as good as I expected.

I wanted to drag Taylor down to my level, and I did. I showed him the depths of depravity and drug his own to light, too. I ruined his first real relationship in years, and what did it get me?

Two weeks alone.


	2. Blow

The next week seemed to drag on forever. I knew I was just being melodramatic about how awful it was to be without Taylor, and I hated myself for that, but it was true. I hated and loved every minute with him. He was so incredibly frustrating that it was almost nice not to have him constantly pulling me closer only to push me away. But even that only barely made it easier to deal with the time apart.

It felt like the tour would never begin again, but finally, it did.

Our first date back on the road was in New York, and I should have been a lot more excited about that than I was. New York was always a fun place to play. Somehow, though, I just couldn’t get very happy about this particular show. Maybe it was because Taylor didn’t say ten words to me during the entire flight there. There was a very good chance that played a role in my bad mood. What could I do about it, though? It wasn’t like I could force Taylor to talk to me. The thought was tempting, though, but I dismissed it as soon as it occurred to me.

No. I would just have to wait. Eventually, I was certain, Taylor would pull his head out of his ass and realize what was right in front of him. He wasn’t that dumb, I kept reassuring myself. Then again, maybe he was.

We flew into New York a few days before the concert to do some promo and just have a little time to explore the city. It was one of our favorites, especially after living there for a few years after launching the label. We all knew it almost as intimately as we knew Tulsa or Los Angeles, so we always tried to schedule a little extra time in the Big Apple. For everyone else, this meant a lot of time to drink. Not me, though. It’s not that I don’t drink at all, but I don’t like me when I’m drunk. It’s safer just to stay in the hotel when everyone else goes out. But I decided I’d spent too long playing the hermit. When Isaac came to my room and asked if I wanted to go out to a bar close to the hotel with everyone, I surprised us both by saying yes. With a hint of shock in his voice, he told me to meet them all in the lobby in fifteen minutes.

It didn’t take me nearly that long to get ready. Who did I have to impress? I brushed my fingers through my hair and switched out my shirt for a different one that I hadn’t slept in the night before. That was the most effort I felt like putting in. I was sure the single members of our crew would be pulling out all the stops, but that didn’t bother me. What were the chances of me meeting anyone at the sort of bar they would want to go to? Even if I did… well, I couldn’t picture it as a possibility at all. I had no desire to even _look_ for someone other than Taylor.

As I stuffed my cell phone and wallet into my pockets, I realized just how pathetic I was. It had been years since I’d had any interest in anyone other than Taylor, and now that I’d had a taste of him, I realized it would never be enough. Now that I knew without a doubt what I was missing, no one else would ever measure up to Taylor.

Yeah, definitely pathetic.

I took my time going down to the lobby; it’s sad to say, but I was in no hurry to see any of our band and crew. Going out and pretending to be social was enough. I didn’t think I had it in me to even pretend that I was actually enjoying myself. My desire to even attempt to fake it vanished as soon as I saw Taylor waiting by the hotel doors.

He was alone, so I couldn’t resist at least trying to speak to him. I knew there was little chance he would respond, but he had promised only two weeks apart. Surely things could go back to normal–whatever the hell that was–now?

“Tay,” I said, my hand reaching for his arm like it had a mind of its own. “You going out to the bar?”

“Are you?” He asked, blinking up at me, then down at my hand on his bare arm.

I pulled my hand back, my skin practically sizzling just from that little touch. The effect he had on me was ridiculous. My mouth hung open for a moment as I tried to remember how to answer his simple question. “Umm… yeah, I guess I am.”

“Drinking?” He asked.

“Why not? Is that a problem?” My words were sharp and I knew it, but I couldn’t help myself. It was my one last defense against him.

Taylor frowned. “I just didn’t think… I mean, since when do you drink?”

 _Since I started having sex my brother_ , I thought, but didn’t say.

The rest of the group arrived before I could think of a more appropriate response, and within seconds we were out the door and walking down the sidewalk. We were a pretty conspicuous group, but our band was far past the point of fans lurking outside our hotels hoping for even the tiniest glimpse of us. On rare occasions, one or two really determined girls would show up, but that didn’t appear to be the case that night. We were free to go off and get trashed without anyone noticing or judging.

And that’s exactly what we did.

Ike was a generous drunk, and he bought several rounds for everyone. I started with beer, because I figured that was safe. I might wobble and slur on beer, but my actions stayed largely under my control. It was when I moved on to hard liquor that things got a little less predictable. The tour had only just resumed, so I figured it was too soon to make a spectacle of myself. At least, that was what I thought at first, before the fifth or sixth beer.

I had no clue how many drinks in Taylor was, but it was enough to make him flirty. Then again, when wasn’t Taylor flirty? It didn’t matter who he worked his charms on, either–the bartender for free drinks, the DJ for songs that he liked, cute girls for more and more dances. He seemed to be making a point with some very inspired, very suggestive dance moves with an entire crowd of drunk and barely dressed women. I wasn’t sure what that point was, though. We all knew he wasn’t entirely straight, so he was he trying to fool? Maybe it didn’t mean anything like that at all, though.

I didn’t know. What I did know was that I wanted a stronger drink.

I shoved my way to the bar, not caring who I elbowed or shouldered to get there. We were in a pretty trendy sort of bar, so the crowd was full of the kind of hipsters Taylor gravitated to. I briefly wondered if he’d picked the bar. It didn’t matter. What did matter was that there weren’t any big, burly guys around to get mad at me for making them spill their drinks as I forced my way to the front of the line for drinks.

Once I got the bartender’s attention, I ordered a double shot of vodka. It wasn’t a drink I enjoyed, but it was one that would get me shitfaced fast. Just a few more shots and I wouldn’t care who Taylor was dancing with. I was already on my second–or third and fourth, technically–when I felt eyes on me.

In our line of business, you develop a feeling for that. You can just tell, even from yards away, when someone’s attention is trained on you. Whether it’s a fan or not, you’ll know if they’re watching you a little too closely. I knew that the hairs on the back of my neck weren’t just standing in up response to the vodka shooting fire down my throat. Someone was definitely sizing me up. I scanned the crowd around the bar, trying to lean casually against it and look like I was just observing the crowd. It didn’t take me long to locate the source of the stare.

I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that it was some skinny little hipster guy. The bar was crawling with them, and most of the ones I’d met were a lot like Taylor–or, I supposed, like me. From the way this guy was grinning at me, I could tell he was _definitely_ like me.

He caught me staring at him, of course, because even that little bit of vodka seemed to have impaired by brain. It also erased the ensuing conversation from my memory entirely, but it didn’t matter. It was obvious from the way he approached me what he wanted, and I was too far gone to consider all the reasons not to follow him into the club’s bathroom.

It had been years since I’d done anything like that. It was a low I never wanted to stoop to, but after years of desperation over Taylor and the inevitable realization that I was, in fact, gay… well, things happened. Even when I was still underage, the band and crew would sneak me into bars and let me steal their drinks. I developed a taste for that, and in my more desperate moments, I found it all too easy to hook up with random guys. I could probably count on one hand the number of times I did, if my memory was correct, but that was more than enough.

The hipster whose name I hadn’t even caught was about to be number six… or so.

He led the way to the bar’s dirty bathroom and I followed close but not too close behind him. It might have been years, but I still remembered how this all worked. He stepped into a stall first while I lingered at the sink, casually washing my hands and waiting for the other stalls and urinals to empty. I tried not to make eye contact with anyone, even as I washed my hands a second and third time. Finally, we were alone. I slipped into the stall with him, the last one in the row, and latched the door behind me.

He started to speak, but I backed him against the wall and shoved my tongue down his throat before he had the chance. I didn’t want to get to know him. I wasn’t here for anything more than just to get off; we didn’t need words for that. Words just made it more real, made him more of a person and less of a means to an end.

A voice in the back of my head told me that I sounded like Taylor, but I tried to ignore it. I was nothing like Taylor. Nothing.

To my surprise, the boy shoved me right back and easily took charge. He was smaller than me and a little frail looking, but he knew what he was doing. It was only a matter of seconds before he’d pulled my pants down and sucked my dick into his mouth. He was good. Very good. I bit my lip to keep from moaning, my only show of emotion at all my head falling back against the stall’s wall.

It was over fast, and that was fine by me. This didn’t need to be long and drawn out; there was nothing emotional about it. It was just sex. That didn’t mean I couldn’t enjoy myself, though. He grinned up at me as he lapped up the last few drops of my come, and I jerked him to his feet before even pulling my pants back up. I kissed him roughly, tasting myself on his tongue. That was enough to make him let out a tiny whimper and we both froze on the spot, fearing we’d been caught.

Silence. We were safe.

The scare sent us both into a panic, though. I rushed to shove myself back into my pants and zip them up and he straightened his hair and clothes with a shaky hand before walking out of the stall. I was anxious to leave, but I knew I should wait a moment after him. My mind was spinning, though. The alcohol, the sex… it was all rushing together, and I went tumbling out of the stall only seconds after him. He was standing at the sink, trying to look casual as he dried his hands and I–

Ran right into Taylor.

He gave me a strange look, his brow furrowing in that way I found so infuriatingly beautiful. He had the dumb blonde act down to such a science that I wasn’t even sure it was an act. Right then, though, I saw understanding in his eyes. Taylor knew what I’d done.

“I–umm… wash my hands,” I stuttered out, pushing past him and practically throwing myself at the sink.

The adrenaline rush I’d felt moments before was threatening to turn into nausea. I washed my hands three, four, five times with scalding hot water. I didn’t even feel the pain, and that made me angry. I wanted it to hurt. I deserved it. I needed to burn out the twistedness inside of me, and scald away the memory of Taylor’s eyes on me as he realized I’d just gotten head in a bar bathroom.

But I couldn’t. Like every other awful moment with Taylor, it was going to stay planted in my memory forever, no matter how much alcohol I’d consumed.


	3. Hangover

When I woke up the next morning, the smell of stale beer, cigarettes and sweat hit my nose immediately. It didn’t matter how far I shoved my face down into the hotel sheets, I couldn’t escape it. That disgusting scent was seared into my skin, it seemed, along with just a hint of something else, something even more primal than the sweat.

Sex.

I had to lay in bed for a moment before remembering just _why_ I smelled that on myself. Ultimately, I decided it was just my guilt. It had only been one blow job; that wasn’t enough to cover me in the stench of it. But along with the scent, the memory of Taylor finding me, his eyes searching mine for confirmation of what he’d seen… it was stuck to me. I couldn’t escape any of it.

There was a big part of me that really just wanted to stay in bed all day, but a knock at the door reminded me that we had some radio promo scheduled for that afternoon. I drug myself out of bed and yelled toward the door that I would be ready soon. My voice sounded hoarse and betrayed how much I’d had to drink, but Bex didn’t seem to care. As long as I made it to the interview, I supposed. Once I heard her footsteps retreating from the door, I pulled myself from bed and shuffled to the bathroom.

It took me only mere minutes to shower, since I really didn’t care whether or not I looked presentable. That bar smell was going to linger no matter what, but I figured that would be following the entire band around all day. I did at least put on clean clothes, in one tiny concession toward hygiene and good taste.

Like the night before, we all met in the hotel lobby. This time, though, we were in a different mode entirely–music mode, with just a hint of hangover. It was late enough that the hotel was no longer serving breakfast, so there was already a spirited debate going on about where to go eat when I arrived. I had no opinion at all on the matter; food sounded disgusting to me right then. I would be lucky if I could choke down a cup of coffee, which I only ever had a taste for when I was nursing a hangover. The rest of the time, I couldn’t stand it, but when I was coming off a bender, it was the only thing I could stomach–plain black coffee, not the sugary drinks Taylor favored.

Speaking of Taylor…

He was in the crowd of course, throwing in his suggestion for just getting coffee and nothing else. Surprisingly, I agreed with him. That didn’t happen very often, and I couldn’t help wondering if the reasons for our agreement were linked together.

Eventually, someone decided that a diner would provide everything that we all wanted to eat, and we shuttled toward the van we’d rented for our few days in New York. It was easier, especially if we weren’t carting around a full band worth of instruments, to have a van for getting to and from our various engagements around town. With our bags and a couple of guitars, we piled into the van and settled in for the ride to wherever it was we were going. I didn’t really care about the details. I just scooted in all the way to the window and leaned my head against it. Some people got carsick if they sat near the window, but I liked to just curl up there and nap, even when I wasn’t feeling quite so shitty. There weren’t enough of us to fill the van and no need to squeeze in close, but Taylor still sat down right next to me.

“Hungover?” He asked, even the hint of amusement in his voice not hiding the fact that he felt the same way.

I just nodded, my head thumping against the window as I did and doing absolutely nothing for the headache I’d felt since the second I got out of bed.

“I’d say you would be… drank a lot, didn’t you?” Taylor asked, his voice a little softer. We were in the last row of the van, all by ourselves, but he still kept his voice down as though someone might overhear. None of them really seemed awake or conscious enough to care what we talked about, though.

I didn’t see the need to answer his question at all. He already knew the answer, even if he didn’t know exactly how many drinks I’d had. But Taylor was determined.

“Hey,” he said, nudging me. “How much _did_ you drink, anyway?”

“Why does it matter?” I spat out, my teeth gritted.

I felt more than saw Taylor draw back away from me. “It’s not big deal, I was just… I mean, I figured you must have been pretty drunk to do something like… well, that.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I replied, and the lie almost sounded convincing even to me.

I could practically hear Taylor’s eyes roll. “I was right there, Zac. I saw you coming out of that stall.”

“And that’s noteworthy because..? You said it yourself, I had a lot to drink.” I didn’t know why I was continuing to lie to him. I just had this immediate desire to be as mean to him as I could, and in this particular instance, it meant lying to him and being as short and sarcastic as I could be. But who was I kidding? There really was no limit to my sarcasm. I could always be worse.

“Zac,” Taylor said, drawing the word out in a way that said he was clearly losing his patience with me. “You were with that guy. I saw him walk out, and then you. I’m not an idiot.”

“If you’re not an idiot, why are you talking to me when it should be obvious that I don’t want to talk to you?”

He didn’t have a reply for that, and for a moment I thought that meant he had finally taken my not-so-subtle hint to leave me alone. When I chanced a glance his way, though, I could see the look of concentration on his face. Taylor was actually trying to come up with an answer to that question, a question that really didn’t need an answer at all. Sometimes I really worried about his brain; it might have actually been a scarier place than mine.

Before he could formulate any sort of answer, the van rolled up to the curb and came to a stop. Everyone started piling out onto the sidewalk and I seriously considered going into a different restaurant from the rest of them. I could do that, couldn’t I? No one would stop me, right?

Except Taylor, of course, who stood right in front of the van door and blocked my way.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I growled.

Taylor’s eyes widened. “What the fuck is _my_ problem? Since when do you… do stuff like that?”

“Like what?” I asked, glancing around to be sure we were alone. Everyone else was walking into the restaurant. “Have sex with men?”

“You had sex with him?” Taylor practically screeched.

I rolled my eyes. “Figure of speech, okay. But I don’t see how it’s any of your business what I did with him.”

“So you admit you did something with him,” Taylor replied, and I began to feel like we were really going around in circles.

“Yes,” I hissed. “Okay are you happy now? I fooled around with a guy other than you. Oh… is that it? Are you jealous?”

“No, of course not,” Taylor replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “Jealous of my _brother_? Listen to yourself, Zac. That’s ridiculous.”

“No, _you’re_ ridiculous. And you’re definitely acting jealous.”

Taylor huffed. “Why would I be jealous, Zac?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, a tiny smirk crossing my face. I was definitely getting to him, and that was nearly as much of a thrill as sleeping with him. “But it seems like typical jealous behavior. You don’t want me, but no one else can have me. Sounds about right.”

“It sounds fucked up,” Taylor said.

“And we’re not?” I replied with a laugh. “Honestly, Taylor. You said it yourself. We’re brothers and yes, it is ridiculous, but it _happened_. You clearly want to do undo what we did, but you can’t. So can you just do me a favor and deal with it without judging me for whatever and whoever else I choose to do?”

“No,” Taylor said, his voice going soft and almost sincere. He reached for my arm and I shied away from his touch the way he’d done the night before. “I can’t deal with it. How did you… how do you deal with it?”

I shrugged. The short answer was that I didn’t. I was a hypocrite for asking him to if a decade hadn’t taught me how to get over wanting my brother. I wanted to take back my words, but as I told Taylor… things couldn’t just be undone like that, no matter how much you wished it.

Before either of us could say anything else, Ike popped his head out of the diner door. “Are you guys coming in? What’s going on?”

“We’ll be there in a second,” Taylor replied quickly. “Zac, umm, he just wasn’t feeling well. Hungover, you know.”

Ike chuckled. “I know that feeling. Get a little coffee and you’ll feel better, okay?”

“Yeah,” I choked out. “Just a sec.”

Isaac disappeared back into the restaurant and I stared blankly at Taylor. I wanted to thank him for thinking up an excuse so quickly, but the words got stuck in my throat and wouldn’t come out. Even if he had been nice right then, I still didn’t feel like being nice to him in return. He hadn’t done enough to deserve it.

“Can we just go in now?” I asked, trying not to sound as annoyed with Taylor as I felt. But truthfully, the annoyance was fading.

Taylor frowned. “I really don’t think we’re done with this conversation.”

“Well, I think we are.”

“Zac, can you just…” he began, then sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Can you just not argue with me anymore? It’s not good for either of our hangovers.”

“I can try,” I replied, even though I wasn’t certain at all that I could.

“It’s just… you know, I’m frankly shocked as hell that you would do something like that.”

“What, fuck around with someone other than you?” Yeah, I was definitely failing at that whole not arguing thing.

Taylor groaned and shook his head. “No… I mean, in the bar’s bathroom? With some random dude? That’s not good, Zac.”

“You’ve done just as bad, I’m sure,” I replied, and it was really more of a statement of fact than an accusation. Taylor knew that, too, and his protests died before they made it past his lips.

“Maybe I have,” he finally admitted. “But that just means I know better than anyone how risky that is.”

“So you’re telling me to stop?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, it’s not an order, but… yeah, I think you probably should.”

I smirked, ignoring the way it made my head hurt even more. “You realize that kind of makes me want to do it even more?”

“I should have anticipated that,” he replied with a nod. “Just… just be safe, alright?”

In between the lines, I was pretty sure he was telling me that he cared about me. Maybe. Mostly, I thought his words came from a place of selfish jealousy, because that was typical Taylor. But maybe he really did care, too. He was right; he would know better than anyone else how dangerous those sort of hookups were. He’d nearly gotten caught a million times with Alex, and I’d held my tongue when he pouted and whined about it. I wouldn’t be so quick to stay quiet if he got himself into some stupid situation like that during this tour, especially now that he’d tried to warn me to be careful.

Rubbing his temples, Taylor asked, “Now, can we please go get some coffee before my brain explodes?”

“I’m pretty sure hangovers don’t cause exploding brains,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

“You never know, Zac. You never know.”

No, I supposed I never did. But I wasn’t thinking about hangovers anymore.


	4. Suck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is the same chapter I posted a few days ago. I just realized that I skipped ahead and left out chapter 3! So go back and read that one before reading this one (again).

The concert in New York wasn’t really the true beginning of the second leg of our tour, and so after it, we returned to Tulsa for a few days before the real beginning of the tour. That gave me a chance to resume my hermit routine, which was becoming far too comfortable. I knew I needed to get out of that habit before I was back on the road and being forced to be social all the time, but I didn’t really know how.

Of course, it wasn’t much of a hermit routine if it kept being interrupted by the brother who claimed we needed time apart. Was it possible that was as hard on him as it was on me? He certainly seemed to be violating his own plan a lot…

On our second night home, I’d just settled in to play some video games until I passed out when my phone began buzzing at me. I’d turned the ringer off just because I could; I didn’t expect any calls, but I felt like I was really avoiding people when my phone was on silent. But it buzzed its way off the coffee table before I worked up the nerve to look at the message I was already certain came from Taylor.

_R u busy tonight?_

What a stupid question. What the hell would I possibly be doing on a Wednesday night? Other than avoiding Taylor like he’d told me to do, of course.

_No I’m not. Y?_

I pulled my headset back on and resumed my game, not really caring at all what Taylor’s reply might be. But the second I saw my screen light up, I dove for my phone like the pathetic, lovesick bastard I was really trying not to be.

_Bored :o( Can we hang out?_

Yes, I supposed we could. Should we? That was another question entirely, and it wasn’t the one Taylor asked. Besides, I had a sinking feeling that he had already decided, even before texting me, that we were going to hang out. If I hadn’t answered, he probably would have shown up on my doorstep, acting like he was worried that I was dead or something.

As it was, he was on his way over to _hang out_. Whatever the hell that meant.

He arrived at my apart so quickly that I had to wonder if he wasn’t already in the neighborhood when he texted. I certainly wouldn’t put that past Taylor. He was just that cocky. Why would someone say no to hanging out with Taylor Fucking Hanson, anyway? Well, I could think of a few reasons, but as soon as I opened the door and saw him standing there in his tight jeans and stupid v neck shirt… I couldn’t remember any reasons at all to refuse him.

“I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?” He asked, blinking his eyes innocently as he walked into the apartment.

I rolled my eyes. “Just some Call of Duty. Nothing important.”

“Since when are video games nothing important to you?” Taylor asked, smirking.

“Not what I meant,” I replied, walking to the fridge and grabbing a beer. On second thought, I grabbed another. I was going to need one as well to get through this little hang out. “I can play later, too. Or I could just finish my game while you do… whatever.”

“You could, but what would be rude. You shouldn’t ignore your guest like that.”

I rolled my eyes again, biting my tongue as I handed him the beer he hadn’t even asked for. Taylor really had no clue just how hospitable I was being, when entertaining my “guest” was the last thing I wanted to do.

Taylor was oblivious to this, of course. He took the beer from me and made himself completely at home, flopping down on the couch and turning my video game off. Once again, I had to bite my tongue as I sat down on the other end of the couch, as far from him as I could get, and watched him flip mindlessly through the channels.

“So,” Taylor asked, finally settling on, of all things, The Food Network. “I don’t suppose you’ve got any weed…”

“Should have known you were just using me for my drugs,” I replied, surprising myself with how flirty I sounded. I didn’t want to sound flirty.

Taylor huffed and crossed his arms. “I’m not using you, I just thought, I mean…”

“Taylor,” I cut him off. “Of course I’ve got some weed. I don’t feel like rolling it up, though, so you mind just helping me finish the bowl I was smoking earlier?”

Taylor blinked, and I swore I could actually see the wheels in his head turning. “Yeah… okay, I mean I guess we can do that.”

With a nod, I stood up and made my way to the bathroom where I’d left the bowl. My apartment was supposed to be non-smoking, but with the bathroom fan on and enough air freshener, I could avoid setting off the smoke detector and cover up most of the scent. It wasn’t perfect, but it worked well enough. Sometimes I considered moving into a house where I could do whatever I damn well pleased, but I really didn’t need that much space. I didn’t have a family like Ike, or a gigantic ego like Taylor. This little apartment was enough for me.

Once I’d swiped the bowl and a lighter from the bathroom counter, I walked back to the living room to find Taylor engrossed in learning how to make crepes or something. Honestly, there were times when I forgot that he was my older brother and not my older sister, and this was definitely one of those times. At the same time, his little girly quirks were kind of endearing. Kind of.

I held the pipe and lighter out to him and he just blinked up at me. Rolling my eyes, I sat down and lit it myself, sucking hard on the end of the pipe as I held the lighter to the bowl. I could feel Taylor’s eyes on me, but I tried to ignore him, focusing on the crackle and pop of the weed as it caught and began to smolder.

Once it was sufficiently lit, I took a large hit and passed the pipe to Taylor. I couldn’t resist the urge to watch him as he pulled it to his lips. His cheeks hollowed beautifully as he sucked on it, his eyes fluttering shut like the smoke was filling him with the most exquisite ecstasy. I’d seen that expression before; I’d _caused_ it. I let out a sigh when I exhaled my first hit, hating myself for not being able to escape thoughts of sex with Taylor. He didn’t seem t notice the torture I was engaged in, passing the pipe back to me with a surprisingly innocent expression on his face.

We passed the bowl back and forth in silence for quite some time, the only sound aside from the television our heavy breaths and occasional coughs. Taylor coughed more than I did, despite his years of smoking cigarettes. Each cough was accompanied by a sheepish smile that made me hate and love him even more.

Once I declared the pipe cashed, the silence between us became even more deafening. But, as Taylor had a way of doing, he filled it with his own voice.

“Can I… can I ask you a question?”

“I’m sure you’re capable of it,” I replied slowly. “It’s whether or not I’ll answer that’s not as certain.”

Taylor rolled his eyes. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?” I asked.

“What you did… with that guy. In the bathroom.”

I sighed. “You make it sound way worse than it was. Do you think I just do shit like that all the time?”

“I have no idea!” Taylor screeched. “I didn’t even know you were gay or… well, anything, until a few weeks ago. I’m just trying to catch up now, okay?”

If there was one thing I really hated, it was when Taylor had a point. It was a rare occurrence, and it always hurt when it happened. I had kept so much from him, including some very important vital facts about myself. I hadn’t shared those things with anyone, really, but if there was one person in my life who deserved a little truth, I supposed it was Taylor. And I hated that realization.

“Okay,” I finally replied. “First of all, I don’t do… that… very often. Not for years, really. I had a dark period, I guess, when I finally figured out I was… gay. And I experimented or whatever. But I realized it was a stupid idea. The other night was just a fluke. A drunken fluke.”

Taylor nodded slowly. “I guess… I guess I understand. As long as you’re not doing it all the time.”

“I’m not, I swear,” I said. “That was honestly the first time since… I don’t know, I was about twenty, I guess?”

“Twenty?” Taylor echoed, his eyes going wide. “Was that when you… realized?”

I shook my head. “No. Well, that wasn’t long after I finally accepted it. I didn’t really ever say it to myself until after Kate and I broke up. That was kind of the tipping point. But I’d… suspected for years.”

There was a lot left unsaid that, and I hoped Taylor was smart enough to read between the lines. He seemed to be. For a long time, he just sat, staring off into the distance. I wanted to know what he was thinking, but I didn’t ask. I’d shocked myself enough with everything I’d admitted to him, and I really didn’t dare speak and give him reason to ask me more questions. Not like Taylor needed a reason to talk, though.

“So was that… I mean, those were the only times you’ve been with a guy?” He asked.

I shook my head, but kept my lips tightly closed. I really, really didn’t want to talk about that particular subject. It was a rode I had no desire to go down, no matter how much Taylor prodded and pried.

“You’ve been with other guys, then?” He asked. Of course he did.

“Yes,” I replied. “And I’m not asking for _your_ sexual history, so you can stop talking about mine.”

Taylor frowned. His voice soft and low, he said, “I just want to understand… that’s all.”

“Yeah, well, so do I,” I mumbled.

“Do you think we could smoke a little more?” Taylor asked, seeming to sense that it was a good opportunity to change the subject. I was surprised that he was so astute.

“Yeah, sure,” I replied, grabbing my pipe and heading off to my bedroom in search of my stash.

I returned a moment later, still picking resin out of the pipe, to find Taylor huddled over my stove. I smelled something suspiciously like fried eggs. I didn’t even know I _had_ eggs. Glancing over Taylor’s shoulder, I saw that he’d managed to find not only eggs but cheese and sausage, and was frying omelets.

Only Taylor.

“Got the munchies?” I asked, making him jump nearly a foot in the air. That sent me into such a fit of giggles that I nearly dropped the pipe.

Once we’d calmed down and stopped laughing, Taylor just gave me a smile and said, “I thought we could use a snack.”

I just shook my head and sat down on a bar stool to finish getting our second bowl ready. Except for the whole drug thing, it was a pretty strangely domestic little scene. I liked it more than I thought I would. What it actually meant for our relationship… friendship… whatever… I didn’t know. It seemed best not to question it, but just enjoy it. Who knows how long it would last.

This one night was as perfect and normal as I supposed the two of us would ever be.


	5. Wet

After our second bowl, omelets and several beers, Taylor ended up in my bed. Nothing happened except for a few sloppy kisses, and I had no idea what it meant. I could only hope that it meant whatever strangeness had kept us apart for the last few weeks was finally over. I had a feeling I wasn’t that lucky, though.

A few short days later, we were on a plane to Mesa, Arizona to truly begin our tour again. Taylor sat next to me on the plane and I tried not to read too much into it. Taylor sat next to me at every meal we shared, and I tried not to read too much into that, too. When we divvied up the hotel rooms, he offered to share with me, and I couldn’t have stopped myself from reading too much into that if I had tried.

Once again, I had absolutely no clue what was going on with Taylor. But that was nothing new. It was an old, familiar feeling, but for once, there was a hint of positivity to it.

The concert felt normal, for once. I didn’t know how to really explain what I felt, but it was a good thing. So many of our recent shows had felt off. Either we were angry or just tense and awkward. But this one felt like it should have. It felt like coming home. I couldn’t help but think a lot of that was due to things finally being somewhat normal, if you could call it that, between me and Taylor.

As soon as the show was over, I headed to the venue’s bathroom for a shower, and then made my way outside to sign a few autographs. When I was in a good mood, I didn’t mind staying outside with the fans for hours, signing everything they handed my way, answering their questions and just generally having a good time. The only reason I wasn’t so willing to stay late that night was the knowledge that I had a hotel room with Taylor waiting on me. If we had privacy, I wanted to take advantage of it. I wasn’t short with the fans, but I definitely didn’t linger as long as I could have, and soon we were all in the bus, headed back to the hotel.

Taylor didn’t seem to have a lot to say during the drive, but he didn’t seem to be in a bad mood, either. I figured he was just tired; a few weeks off touring meant getting out of the routine, after all. Everyone else seemed full of adrenaline, though. But not Taylor. As always, he was an enigma.

We carried our bags into the hotel room, and he immediately announced that he was going to take a shower since he hadn’t at the venue. I offered to order room service for us and he just shrugged. It definitely wasn’t like Taylor to refuse food. Maybe he was feeling sick. I hoped he was just tired. I ordered a couple hamburgers anyway, figuring that once he saw the food, he’d be unable to refuse it.

I was halfway through my burger when Taylor finally emerged from the bathroom with only a towel slung around his waist. If I hadn’t felt like a total fatass for eating a greasy bacon cheeseburger at midnight, the sight of Taylor’s gorgeous, wet, nearly naked body definitely sent my self esteem plummeting. I sat the burger back and down took a large gulp of my soda, not even trying to hide the fact that I was blatantly staring at Taylor as he stripped off his towel and practically paraded around the room naked.

He was doing this just to torture me. I was certain of it. Then again, his entire existence was torture for me.

When he turned around, still taking his sweet time pulling on his underwear, I quickly averted my eyes and engaged in a serious staring contest with my burger.

“There’s, umm,” I stuttered out. “I ordered another one for you, just in case. It’s on your bed…”

“Oh,” he replied. “Umm… thanks.”

An awkward silence descended on the room, and I tried to keep myself from staring at him any more. At some point, he was bound to notice, and if that was what he wanted, I wasn’t going to give in. I’d managed to have the upperhand quite a bit lately, and though I wasn’t exactly sure how, I was determined to get it back.

Despite saying he wasn’t hungry, Taylor ate his burger and fries like a starving man. I finished mine a little more slowly, and headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth. As I stood at the sink, I tried to replay the day’s events in my mind and see if I could think of any reason for Taylor to be acting so strangely. I came up completely empty handed. Maybe being back on tour made the loss of Shay worse for him. I had no clue, and somehow I doubted Taylor would explain whatever was bothering him. For someone who liked to talk, he also liked to keep his feelings bottled up. All that talk was just a distraction, smoke and mirrors to hide what was truly going on in his mind.

Twenty four years had taught me that, but it hadn’t taught me how to get past all of his diversions and cut right through to the truth.

In the mirror, I saw movement. When I raised my eyes and stared into the glass, I was surprised to see Taylor walking toward me. He still only wore a pair of thin boxers and his hair was damp. I had the strange thought that even his hair probably tasted good. I wanted to bury my face in it. I was _pathetic_.

“Do you mind sharing the sink?” Taylor asked, and it seemed like a perfectly innocent question. Maybe it was.

With a mouth full of toothpaste, I could do little more than nod and step slightly to the side, but that was enough for Taylor to get the hint. The hotel bathroom wasn’t that big, so we were pretty cozy together in front of that mirror. Two brothers, brushing their teeth. A perfectly normal scene for just about any two brothers besides us.

It was all too tempting to stare at Taylor in the mirror, and the second my eyes landed on him, I realized he was doing the same thing. Like everything else he did, I was certain I was reading too much into it but I didn’t care. I needed something to make me happy, if only for a brief and fleeting moment before Taylor yet again disappointed me. Didn’t he owe me at least that much?

We played this strange staring game as we finished brushing our teeth. Taylor took his time brushing out his still damp hair, fashioning it into all sorts of ridiculous styles that I was positive were only for my own benefit. I choked a little bit on a stray glob of toothpaste when I laughed at the fauxhawk he crafted, and Taylor gave me the biggest smile I’d seen on his face in a long time.

Once we had both rinsed away our toothpaste and had no real reason to linger in the bathroom, I decided to go in for the kill. I knew it was a risky move, but I couldn’t stop myself. While Taylor was still toying with his hair, I circled my arms around his waist and pulled him in close to me. He opened his mouth to protest, but I didn’t stop. The second before our lips made contact, I saw his eyelids flutter shut and felt his body relax into mine; whatever protest he might have made, it was gone.

The kiss deepened quickly, and I couldn’t have said for sure which of us was responsible for that. I was definitely the one backing Taylor against the sink and pinning him there, though. I had this crazy, possessive need to pin him down and refuse to ever let him escape. If I could just keep him with me long enough, I was sure I could convince him that he didn’t need anyone else…

And then, all too soon, the kiss was over.

He turned his head, leaving me with nothing but a mouthful of that hair I’d thought would taste as sweet as the rest of him. In that particular context, it tasted nothing but bitter.

“Tay?” I asked, the word getting caught in his hair but the question hanging in the air regardless.

“We shouldn’t.”

I groaned. “We _never_ should have. But we did.”

“That doesn’t mean we should keep doing it,” he replied, giving me a gentle, half-hearted shove. He might as well have used enough force to send me reeling into the opposite wall for as bad as it felt.

“Is that what you meant when you said we should take a break?” I asked. “You just couldn’t say you wanted that break to last forever, so you tried to ease me into by saying two weeks?”

“No,” Taylor replied, his eyes not quite meeting mine. That was a sure sign that he was lying. “I just… I mean, you know we should stop. Logically, rationally, you know that. Don’t you?”

“I know that you can’t make up your damn mind,” I growled storming out of the bathroom.

Truthfully, I didn’t know whether I wanted Taylor to follow me or not. I wasn’t sure, either, whether I was disappointed when he didn’t. With my back to the open bathroom door, I cleaned up the scattered mess of plates and food scraps that we’d made, and climbed into my bed. It was big and empty; I hated hotel beds for that exact reason. In typically gay fashion, I kept my bed at home covered in pillows. It was just to distract me from the fact that it was too large for one man all by himself. But now, especially without Taylor by my side, this hotel bed felt miles wide. I hated it.

I kept my back to the bathroom door and huddled under the covers, deciding that I didn’t care at all if Taylor stayed in the bathroom all night. Of course, the second I decided that, I felt the mattress sink under his weight. He tugged at the covers and I briefly considered holding tight to them and refusing to let him in.

“Zac…” Taylor practically whined, scrambling under the covers and pressing his body far too tightly up against mine. “I wish you wouldn’t… be so upset.”

“Then don’t upset me,” I replied through gritted teeth.

Taylor sighed. “What do you want from me, Zac? You know this thing between us is a bad idea.”

“Maybe,” I replied. “I guess I just don’t see why that means it has to stop.”

“Because we’ve already been caught once? Because we can never, ever let anyone else find out about this? Because it’s tearing us apart?”

I could see the logic in the first two, but the third? If that was how he felt, then he was even more oblivious to the torture that had been my general existence for the past decade. How could I even go about explaining that to him, though? How could I put ten years of desperate longing into words?

I couldn’t.

The last thing I wanted was to give in and let Taylor win, but at that moment, I could see no good argument against what he’d said. Maybe it should end. If only it were that simple, though. If only he hadn’t curled up against me and made himself perfectly comfortable as though cuddling with me wasn’t in conflict with everything he’d just said.

If only I could tell him to go back to his own bed.


	6. Best Friends

We left Arizona the next day for a long stretch of shows in California. For some reason, I just didn’t have a good feeling about that. It was far too long for us to spend in both Alex and Shay’s home state. Taylor would have far too much temptation there. I supposed there was a reason I didn’t get to plan the tour schedule, though. If I did, I’d have a hard time steering us clear of cities where Taylor had history. It wouldn’t leave very many places we could safely play.

The first show of our long, strange stay in California was in Anaheim. We all talked about using what little free time we had for visiting a theme park, but ultimately decided against it. I don’t think any of us had any happiness or cheer to speak of, which was pretty pathetic for that early in the tour. I had to remind myself that it wasn’t the beginning of the tour. We’d been on this trip from hell for two months, which only a tiny break. It might as well have been one long tour, and it had easily been the worst one we’d ever had.

That statement is the sort of melodramatics I’d usually expect from Taylor, but it was true. This tour _sucked_.

So, no amusement parks. That was fine by me. I just wanted to survive the concert and get on with my life. It wasn’t that easy, though. In a stupid, masochist way, I couldn’t stop myself from scanning the crowd for any of Taylor’s old friends. I didn’t _think_ they would dare show their faces, but some of them were idiots. You never knew what to expect from them.

When I finally spotted a familiar face in the crowd, I thought I was going to be sick. But it wasn’t one of Taylor’s old friends. It was one of mine, and I really, really should have been a lot happier to see him.

Carrick.

Our friendship had grown quickly, like one of those love at first sight scenarios. Maybe it was something a little like that, too. We met at Fools Banquet and spent the whole weekend smoking, writing and bonding. When we were finally able to take him–and the rest of his band–on tour with us, it was without a doubt the best tour ever. The exact opposite of this tour.

Yeah, I definitely should have been a lot happier to spot him in the crowd. But right then, he just felt like an unnecessary complication.

When the concert ended, I rushed to take a shower, hoping I could get myself cleaned up quickly and that Carrick wouldn’t leave before I did. He might have complicated things a bit, but he was still my best friend. Like my feelings for Taylor, it was complicated. I wanted and didn’t want to see him at the same time.

It didn’t matter, though, because the shower was already occupied by the aforementioned complicated brother. With a loud growl, I turned around and headed straight back to the green room. Halfway there, I bumped into someone. I was so engrossed in my thoughts about Taylor that I barely even noticed, but I recognized the laugh immediately. Carrick.

“Where’s the fire?” He asked, still chuckling.

“I, umm… I was just…” I stuttered out. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been speechless in front of Carrick, if I ever had. Taylor tended to be the only person who rendered me that dumb.

Carrick chuckled again and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t we go get a beer or something? Great show, by the way.”

I nodded and let him lead the way to the green room, his arm still protectively resting on my shoulder. I resisted the urge to lean against him, knowing how that would look. Why did it matter, though? Maybe it was about time for me to come out of the closet. I’d decided that it was just no one’s business; I wasn’t deliberately _hiding_ , really. But I wasn’t _with_ Carrick. Using him to take that last step out of the closet didn’t seem right. So I kept a safe distance between the two of us as we walked into the crowded green room.

I collapsed onto the couch, and Carrick grabbed a couple beers for the two of us. He settled onto the couch next to me, close enough for our legs to touch, and handed me a beer. I had no desire to get drunk right then, but just one beer wouldn’t harm anything. Probably.

We sipped our beers in silence for a few minutes, in our own little bubble away from the rest of the crowd, before Carrick finally spoke.

“So… what’s up?” He asked. “Been a long time since I’ve seen you…”

I shrugged. “Just since Fools Banquet this year.”

“And that’s way too long,” he replied sincerely. “It just… you seem years older, even though I know it’s only been months. So, again I ask, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” I replied, staring at the floor. I knew if I looked in Carrick’s eyes, he would be able to tell in an instant that I was lying to him.

I didn’t even know why I was lying to him. He knew my deepest darkest secret already. One drunken night, he’d managed to wheedle the truth out of me, and to my surprise, it hadn’t sent him running. That was why he was my best friend. Because he knew the truth about my feelings for Taylor, and he hadn’t run for the hills.

“Zac,” he said softly. “You know you can tell me… whatever it is…”

I looked around the room for something, anything, to distract myself and provide me with a better topic of conversation. Naturally, Taylor chose that moment to walk into the room.

“Is it Taylor?” Carrick asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

What could I say? He already knew, even without the words actually coming out of my mouth. I just nodded, then brought my beer to my lips and gulped down the rest of it. Carrick followed my lead.

Picking at the label on my empty beer bottle, I asked, “Why don’t we get out of here? Go back to the bus?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Carrick replied with a wink.

I resisted the urge to offer him my hand as we stood up, and settled for just throwing an arm around him. That was inconspicuous enough; the two of us were always hanging off each other whenever we were together. I supposed that was probably why Taylor assumed what he did about my relationship with Carrick. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but I didn’t dare give him the satisfaction of telling him that.

As soon as we made it onto the bus, we headed for the back lounge. Carrick knew the routine. He closed and locked the door behind us, and I began digging through the couch cushions for my stash. Carrick saved me the trouble by pulling a beautifully rolled joint out of his wallet.

I grinned. “Came to the show prepared, huh?”

“Like I ever go anywhere without a little something?” He replied, smirking. “Besides, you look like you need it.”

“When don’t I?” I asked, chuckling to cover the truth of how badly I really did need it.

Carrick settled into the couch and patted the spot next to him. With a sigh, I sat down and waited. I knew it would only take him a moment to figure out the right question to ask to get me to spill it all. To my surprise, he just lit up the joint and passed it my way. After a few hits, I couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“It is Taylor,” I admitted.

Carrick just nodded. “What did he do?”

“Me,” I mumbled.

Carrick raised an eyebrow, but that was the only sign at all that he was shocked. I guess he knew it would happen eventually, although I can’t say that I was so certain. I had nearly given up hope entirely, and right then, hope had deserted me again. Taylor and I might have finally given in to whatever attraction there was between us, but it was obvious that he really wanted to resist it. And for the moment, he was doing a damn good job of it.

“I’d think you would be a lot happier about that,” Carrick finally said.

“I would be,” I replied, “if he hadn’t said it should never, ever happen again. And he said that a few times, but now he’s really sticking to it.”

“Are you surprised?” Carrick asked. “I mean, you know it’s not exactly…”

“Normal? Right?” I offered, then sighed. “Yeah… doesn’t change how I feel though.”

Carrick gave me a soft smile. “I always did love your determination, you know. Although some might call it stubbornness.”

“Some might call you an asshole if you don’t pass that joint over here,” I countered.

He chuckled and handed it to me. I took a long hit, considering his words. Somehow, he could say exactly what Taylor had said, but not make me hate him as much. When Carrick said it, I knew he was right. When Taylor said it, he was just being a petulant diva.

I really just needed Carrick in my life all the time.

As I passed the joint back to him, I could feel an idea forming in my mind. I wasn’t sure if it was really a good idea, or just one of those crazy ideas that could be both good and bad. But it was something I thought I really needed.

“Carrick,” I said slowly in my sweetest possible voice. “Are you doing anything important for… a while?”

His eyes sparkled. “Not that I can think of. Why?”

“Well… how would you feel about coming on tour with us?”

“Don’t you already have an opening act?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I replied. “Let me rephrase. How would you feel about coming on tour with me?”

Carrick raised an eyebrow. “Are you doing a solo tour I haven’t heard about?”

I heaved a long-suffering sigh and rolled my eyes. “I mean… just be here with me. I need my best friend right now, Care.”

As he sucked in a long hit, I could tell he was considering what I’d said. I was asking a lot of him, I knew. Probably more than I should have asked of him after everything we’d been through. I was nothing if not selfish, though, and right then I wanted Carrick by my side even more than I wanted Taylor in my bed.

Finally, he exhaled and asked, “Alright, for how long?”

“We’re going up and down the coast for a week or so. Maybe just that long, or longer if you can?”

Carrick nodded slowly. “Yeah. Okay, for a week or two.”

“Yeah?” I asked, smiling so widely that my face was starting to hurt.

“Yeah,” he replied, nodding and smiling.

I couldn’t stop myself. I pounced on Carrick, hugging him tightly. He chuckled and held the joint away from our bodies with one hand, but the other arm was wrapped tightly around my body. I buried my face in his hair, planting a few soft kisses in it. Now that we were in private, I didn’t care at all to show him that much affection. Still laughing, he pulled back and pinched out the cherry at the end of the joint. He barely had it out of his hand when I dove back in, practically climbing into his lap. I was definitely crossing a few lines, but again, we were all alone. There was no one at all there to see Carrick and I looking far more like boyfriends than just two dudes.

Not that anyone would have been surprised to see it, I supposed. As Taylor had proven, they all clearly already had their own theories about me and Carrick. So what if I proved them right? At one point or another during his tour with us, I was pretty sure that everyone had joked about us being boyfriends. We weren’t, but… we were definitely close. But why did it even matter?

Right then, I didn’t care at all what people thought. I just wanted my best friend with me.


	7. Jealousy

After polishing off that joint and another while we waited for everyone else to make their way out of the venue, Carrick and I came up with a plan. I assured him I was absolutely allowed to invite him on tour without everyone else’s approval, and eventually I had him convinced. That was good, because I wasn’t _really_ sure that was the case, but at least I was convincing. With that settled, we agreed that he would head on home and pack up a few things, then meet up at our hotel the next day before the first of our Los Angeles shows. Evidently, he’d already planned on going to those too, so it wasn’t a big deviation from his original plan–same amount of music, but with the promise of a little getaway, too.

In our altered state, it seemed like a flawless plan. What could go wrong?

I broke the news to everyone during our pre-walk band meeting, leaving out the key detail that Carrick had already passed his suitcase off to me before we even headed to the venue. Phrasing it like a hopeful question made it more likely that they would accept it, and they did. Taylor didn’t quite meet my eyes afterward, though, and I wondered what that was all about. He seemed to have some sort of problem with Carrick, but I didn’t want to believe it was jealousy. What was there to be jealous of?

Carrick joined us for the walk, which I could tell delighted quite a few of our fans who’d latched onto his band after we toured together. Taylor still seemed less impressed. At least, that’s what I thought, but it was tough to tell with him practically jogging away ahead of me through the entire walk. I couldn’t even bring myself to take many pictures of him during his speech, because he kept making sour faces and glaring at me. I knew I wasn’t imagining it, either. During one particular mean glare, Carrick nudged me and raised an eyebrow. He saw it, too.

If Taylor hadn’t explicitly told me the opposite, I really would have thought he was jealous. Had he lied to me? Was he really jealous of Carrick–or any guy I was with? It seemed absurd to think of Taylor Hanson as jealous of _anyone_ for any reason, but the evidence was there. I could ignore it all I wanted, but it still pointed to one very obvious conclusion.

Taylor was jealous. Taylor _wanted_ me.

It was almost too much to believe.

Carrick watched the show from the side of the stage this time, and just knowing I had him that close by made me feel a million times better. He was my rock, I supposed. He was just this amazingly comforting, zen-like presence in my life. He could also be a troublemaker, though. Maybe that was Taylor’s problem. Maybe it had nothing to do with me and it was all about him disliking Carrick.

But maybe not.

The concert seemed a little bit off that night, and I had to blame Taylor for it. It was the sort of thing the audience probably didn’t notice, but I could feel it. When Taylor stormed off stage at the end of the show without even glancing my way, I was certain I wasn’t imagining things. He was upset.

He didn’t say a word to me until we reached the hotel. It just so happened that our rooms were down the same hallway, slightly separated from the rest of the band and crew. Carrick, of course, was sharing with me. While he went on into the room, Taylor grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the hall. I barely had time to shoot Carrick an apologetic look before I was out of his sight and the door slammed between us.

“What the hell, Taylor?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I could ask you the same thing. Since when do we just invite random people on tour with us?”

“Carrick isn’t random,” I huffed.

“Maybe not,” Taylor replied. “But he’s just here to what, supply your weed?”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s here because he’s my friend. You want him to sell merch or help the crew or something? I’m sure he would if I told him you were getting your panties in a twist about him being here.”

Taylor snorted. “I’m sure he would do anything you asked him to do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means,” Taylor replied. “But you know, I guess I should be happy for you. You’ve got your little boyfriend now, so maybe you can move on from your crush on me.”

I couldn’t stop myself from laughing out loud at that. “My little crush on you? You’re the one pitching a bitch fit because I invited my _friend_ on tour for a few days.”

“You’re really trying to tell me he’s just your friend?” Taylor asked, raising one bitchy eyebrow.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m telling you it’s none of your damn business what he is. I’m not cheating on you with him, Tay.”

That was something of a low blow, but I didn’t realize it until the words left my mouth. Taylor recoiled from my words as though I had thrown an actual punch at him. Some tiny part of me wanted to take them back, but I knew I couldn’t. The damage was already done.

“You know what?” Taylor said, shaking his head as he continued to back away from me. “Forget it. You can do whatever the hell you want with him. It _doesn’t_ matter to me. It honestly doesn’t.”

I heard the words, but I didn’t believe them. Still, it was as close to permission to move on as Taylor was going to give me. I wasn’t about to argue with him about that.

“Just… just go on back to your room. I’m sure he’s waiting on you.”

I nodded dumbly, watching as Taylor continued to back away from me. I really had no clue what was happening at all, but I knew it wasn’t good. Taylor was shaking as he unlocked his own room. I seemed to be stuck on the spot, watching Taylor vanish behind the door until I could finally force my feet to move again.

I was in a daze as I walked back into my hotel room. A huge part of me wanted to turn around and walk right back out. If I banged on Taylor’s door long and loudly enough, surely he would answer. But what would I even say to him? I had no clue what had just happened.

Carrick must have sensed something was wrong–how could he have missed it?–because he immediately jumped up and rushed to my side. He placed his hands softly but reassuringly on my arms.

“What happened out there, man?” He asked.

I shook my head. “I… I don’t know…”

He rubbed my arms gently. “Did you guys argue? I mean, you look okay, physically, so I’m guessing there wasn’t a fist fight…”

“You know I’d win that anyway,” I replied with the faintest hint of a chuckle. “No… I mean, yeah, we had a fight, I guess.”

Carrick nodded. “I figured. Something had to happen to shake you up like this, and you were… gone a long time.”

“I’m sorry,” I replied, frowning. “You should have gone on to bed… you didn’t have to wait for me.”

“Yeah, I did.”

I shook my head, but it was more in awe than in argument. It truly went without saying that Carrick was the best friend ever. I wished Taylor could see that.

Taylor…

“What are you thinking about now?” Carrick asked.

I shook my head again. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Taylor.”

“Maybe,” I mumbled, shrugging. I knew there was no point denying it, but if I made enough of a fuss, perhaps Carrick would stop pushing.

“Come on,” Carrick said. He reached around me to flip off the light, then pulled me toward the bed.

We fell into it together, and I didn’t really care that I was still completely clothed. I managed to kick my shoes off, but I really didn’t have the energy to do more than that. Carrick just chuckled and pulled the covers over us both.

“Look,” he said, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me protectively close. “You don’t have to tell me what Taylor said. But if you wanna deal with it and maybe feel better about it… it could help to talk. It usually does, you know.”

“I know,” I replied, sighing. “It’s just… well, it was about you.”

“About me?”

I nodded, even though I didn’t think he could see it in the dark. “Just… you know, about you coming on tour, and about… stuff between us. Me and you, I mean.”

“And his general feelings on the subject are, I’m guessing, not very positive?”

I chuckled. “Well, he’s _positive_ that we’re dating.”

“I’m guessing he didn’t drag you out there to give you his blessing on the relationship, then,” Carrick replied.

“No…” I said, then sighed. “I don’t know what the hell he was trying to say. I mean, I really didn’t think he had _that_ big of a problem with you. He’s always joked about me and you, always smoking and stuff, you know. But I don’t know… I don’t know if it really is you or if it’s me.”

“Well, I couldn’t possibly give any fewer fucks whether or not he likes me,” Carrick said. “I mean, he seems like a nice enough guy, but he and I don’t have to be bosom buddies. I’m inclined to think that it’s about you, though.”

“What makes you think that?”

Carrick shrugged. “He always seemed… overprotective of you. And I guess I figured he just thought I was a bad influence or something. But now… honestly, it just seems like jealousy now.”

“I thought that, too,” I admitted. “I just can’t bring myself to believe it.”

“That Taylor’s capable of being jealous or that someone actually wants you?” He asked.

“Both.”

Carrick ran his hand across my cheek. “Then you really aren’t as smart as I thought you were.”

I sighed. I knew Carrick and I were about to go around in the same circle we’d been around a million times before. It didn’t matter what we felt for each other. My feelings for him would never be as strong as my feelings for Taylor. What we’d done… what we might have been… it would never erase Taylor from every atom of my body. It just couldn’t.

Right then, though, I wished it could.


	8. Fucked Up

To my surprise, Taylor acted fairly mature the next day. He was still obviously unhappy with me and by extension Carrick, but for the most part, he ignored us. When he did have to talk to either of us, he was short and curt, but that was better than I had hoped for. That was as close to diplomatic as Taylor was capable of. So we made it through the day, somehow, with little incident. The concert even went well, although there was still a little edge to it that was probably imperceptible to anyone but those of us on stage.

When the concert was over, we all parted ways for the rest of our last night in Los Angeles. We didn’t have a long drive the next day, so our bus call was fairly late. That gave most of us all the excuse necessary to go out for drinks or whatever, but I really just wanted to sleep. Carrick agreed, and it wasn’t long before the two of us were settled into bed together.

I knew to anyone who saw us, it would seem strange that we shared a bed. It wasn’t, really, though. Then again, maybe it was. But it was just what Carrick and I did. I slept better with someone next to me, and he was always obliging. Even before things between us began to dance along that fine line between friends and lovers, we had a habit of cuddling in bed. Carrick’s philosophy was that if it made you happy and didn’t hurt anyone, then why not do it? I tended to agree, especially when it came to being the little spoon with him.

I drifted off to sleep easily that night knowing that Carrick was right there, holding and protecting me. It was the best sleep I’d had in ages. It wasn’t interrupted by the stops and starts of the tour bus, or any unwanted nightmares. It was just… peaceful.

Until my cell phone began to ring.

It took me a moment to wake up enough to realize why I suddenly heard music. When I finally registered that it wasn’t just music, but “Heartbreaker” by Led Zeppelin, I realized what was happening.

Taylor was calling me. At three thirty in the morning.

I dove into the floor, fairly certain my phone was still inside my jeans pocket. Sure enough, it was. I reached it just as it began ringing again, and I pulled myself to a seated position in bed before answering.

“Hello?” I said. “This better be fucking important, Tay.”

“Yesh, I _am_ fucking important, tank you very mush…” He slurred into the phone.

I dropped my head into my lap, but kept the phone near my ear. “Taylor. You’re drunk.”

“I dun fink so. But maybe… s’a possa… possi… bilty.”

“You’re shitfaced.”

Carrick placed a reassuring hand on my back, and I nearly jumped off the bed. I hadn’t even realized he was awake. I turned to him and mouthed _Taylor_ and he nodded knowingly.

“Tay?” I asked. “Are you still there?”

I was answered with only an unintelligible mumble. That wasn’t a good sign. I waited a moment, just in case Taylor was still there and just distracted or something, but when he didn’t reply, I really started to get worried.

“Taylor! Answer me, Tay. Come on.”

Still no reply. I could hear rustling and shuffling, and then a voice that definitely wasn’t Taylor’s said, “Hey… you still there?”

“Umm… yes. Yes, I am,” I replied. I recognized that voice…

“Look, man, your brother is really fucked up. I don’t think he can get back to your hotel on his own.”

None of that came as a surprise at all. “Okay, well, what the hell am I supposed to do about it? I didn’t even know he wasn’t already at the hotel.”

“I dunno, man,” the voice drawled. “You could come get him… It’s Alex. He’s at my house.”

Alex. Alex?! No… it couldn’t be. They hadn’t even spoken for years.

“I can give you directions,” he continued. “I’ll keep an eye on him until you get here.”

“Yeah… okay,” I replied, even though it was anything but. I had no idea what was going on, but if Alex actually seemed worried about Taylor, then it couldn’t possibly be anything good.

Alex rattled off directions to his house, then said goodbye or something, but all I could hear was a buzzing in my ears. I wasn’t aware of anything but how worried I was about Taylor. I must have been shaking, because Carrick grasped me tightly, steadying me. I hadn’t even realized it. He stared at me with wide eyes, no doubt wondering what was going on.

“It’s umm… Taylor, he’s really drunk or something,” I managed to stutter out. “That was… well, it was him at first, and then Alex took over.”

“Alex _Greenwald_?” Carrick asked.

I nodded. “I guess, I mean he acted like he knew me and he sounded familiar. He gave me his address… I don’t think it’s far from here.”

Carrick shook his head. “It’s not. I can call a cab and get us there pretty quickly. I mean, if you want me to come with you. Since I know where it is.”

I nodded. Until right then, I had forgotten that Carrick and Alex were friends. It was their connection that had brought Carrick into my life in the first place, and I’d always found it so strange that they were friends. Not that Carrick wasn’t a hipster too, but he wasn’t as sleazy as most of them. He wasn’t like Alex at all, as far as I could see. Nothing about their friendship ever really made sense to me, but right then, I was glad that it existed.

Carrick called a cab, and I stumbled into my clothes. I didn’t care that I was wearing the same sweaty clothes I’d worn earlier. I didn’t care about anything but making sure that Taylor was okay. Having Carrick there was the only thing calming me down and keeping me grounded. I knew asking him to come on tour with us was a good idea. We hadn’t even left the Los Angeles area yet and he was already proving to be the best thing in my life.

Within minutes, he’d called a cab, gotten himself dressed and practically pushed me out the door. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go, although there was a part of me that dreaded going to Alex’s house. I just seemed to be in a daze, though. Some people spring into action when bad things happen. Others become dumb and get stuck. I’m in the latter category, and right then, Carrick had to practically pick my feet up and move them for me.

Okay, it wasn’t quite that bad. But it might as well have been.

The walk and elevator ride downstairs were a blur, as was the cab ride to Alex’s house. It was all unimportant, so my mind ignored it. It didn’t matter how I got there; it just mattered that I got there as quickly as possible. Carrick stayed close by my side the entire time, practically propping me up. He was, in a very literal sense, my rock.

In just a few short minutes, the cab deposited us in front of Alex’s house. Carrick told the driver we would be back soon, and then he nudged me out onto the sidewalk. There was definitely a party going on; that was easy to see. It was almost a parody of a party, like a scene out of a bad college movie. People were sprawled across the lawn, some of them possibly passed out. As we stepped over them, I had to scan each face to be sure Taylor wasn’t amongst the veritable field of the dead.

He wasn’t.

I could only assume he was still with Alex, and somehow, that didn’t make me feel any better.

It was obvious that Carrick was familiar with Alex’s house, and that had the effect of making me both more and less comfortable at the same time. He kept his hand pressed to the small of my back as he led me inside and scanned the crowd. He stood practically a head above most of them, and they seemed to practically part like the red sea for him anyway. A few people approached him, seeming to think he was there _for_ the party, but he shrugged them off like flies.

With his cell phone in his free hand, he seemed totally oblivious to the crowd. Moments later, he was leading me down a hallway and into a bedroom. I could only assume it was Alex’s, and once again, that didn’t make me feel any better. But sure enough, there was Taylor, passed out face down across the bed. Under any other circumstances, I would have appreciated being able to freely stare at his ass, but it seemed inappropriate right then.

“So you found the place?” A voice said, and it was only then that I even noticed Alex was in the room too. “He passed out a few minutes ago… dude’s fucked up.”

He looked… different.

I had never understood what Taylor saw in him, but right then, he looked even greasier and sketchier than I even remembered. He only looked one or two drinks away from passing out, too, holding up the wall like he was. I wasn’t sure he was in any condition to judge how fucked up Taylor was.

“Can we just get Tay out of here and leave?” I asked Carrick, not even meeting Alex’s eyes. The longer I looked at him, the more upset I knew I would get. I really didn’t want to get in a fist fight while I had a drunk brother to take care of and a cab waiting on me.

It took both of us to hoist Taylor up and force him to his feet. Alex tried to help but I shrugged him off. We didn’t need two drunks hanging off us. Somewhere around the front porch, Taylor came around enough to slur a few words, but that was about it. As long as his feet could be coerced into moving, I was happy.

Okay. I wasn’t happy at all. I was very, very far from happy. But I would take whatever I could get if it got me away from Alex’s house as quickly as possible.

The cab ride back to the hotel seemed to take even longer than the ride there. I think that can be attributed mostly to the fact that I now had a very drunk Taylor trying to climb into my lap and mumbling about how pretty I looked. I shuddered to think what the cab driver must have thought of the three of us. And Carrick? I had _no_ clue what he was thinking. As soon as Taylor was alert enough to start throwing himself at me, Carrick shut down completely and just sat there staring out the window.

When we finally reached the hotel again, I had to practically toss Taylor out of my lap and onto the sidewalk. He just seemed to think that was funny, giggling as he tried to gain his balance and walk into the hotel. I tossed a few bills at the cab driver, then rushed to Taylor’s side. To my surprise, Carrick was there too, still helping me to prop up my useless brother. I could tell that he was unhappy with the whole situation, but he was selfless and caring as always. I needed to be more like him, I decided.

The longer her walked, the more Taylor seemed to be returning to planet earth. His speech was still pretty much unintelligible, but at least he was walking in the right direction without needing to be drug along behind me. That was an improvement. I didn’t even want to imagine what would happen if anyone witnessed me trying to carry him through the hotel. Luckily, that scenario didn’t play out.

As the elevator carried us to our floor, he leaned heavily against my side and rested his head on my shoulder.

“‘M ready for bed,” he mumbled into my hair.

“I bet you are,” I replied, the tiniest hint of amusement in my voice.

“Sleep with me?”

For a second, I was fairly certain I’d swallowed my tongue. Once I was positive that I hadn’t, I managed to choke out, “I, umm… I… what?”

“Not like _that_ ,” Taylor replied with a little giggle. “We’re brothers, Zachary. Just… keep me warm.”

“It’s October in California, Tay. You’ll be plenty warm without me.”

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. I had no choice but to let Taylor drag _me_ along with a surprising strength. I glanced back at Carrick and he just shrugged helplessly. I was fairly certain I saw a hint of annoyance in his eyes, but I didn’t know what to do. If Taylor wanted to cuddle, I didn’t think I could say no. This was the first time in days that he had chosen to be so close to me. I wasn’t letting this opportunity pass.

Besides, someone had to be there to take of his drunk ass, right?


	9. Shitfaced

Even if I had wanted to pull myself away from Taylor, I couldn’t have. He had a surprisingly strong grip on my arm for someone who had been drug practically by his hair out of a party only a few minutes prior. How he could go from passed out to frisky and determined, I didn’t know, but if anyone could do it, Taylor could.

I kept my eyes on Carrick as long as I could, until Taylor had pulled me all the way into his room and the door shut behind me. There was no going back then.

Taylor started stripping out of his clothes the second that the door clicked shut. I had forgotten one thing I really should have remembered about drunk Taylor. He got very, very hot–no pun intended. It was a dangerous thing, really. The fact that he hadn’t somehow managed to be photographed in a state of drunken undress at some club was a miracle. I couldn’t help feeling a little sick at the thought of him potentially stripping down at Alex’s house, but his clothes had seemingly all been in place when I found him. Considering how many layers he tended to wear, though…

And right then, all of those layers were in a pile on the floor. Even the bright red underwear.

“Taylor?” I asked. It wasn’t really a question at all, but I couldn’t stop myself. Just like I couldn’t resist staring at his naked ass.

“Hmm?” He called over his shoulder as he crawled surprisingly gracefully onto the bed. “S’hot in here…”

“Does that mean you don’t want to cuddle anymore?”

“Noo… course I wanna cuddle.”

Of course he did. Why did I even bother asking?

“Come on… I miss you, Zaccy.”

Since he wasn’t facing me, I risked an eye roll. For all I knew, drunk Taylor had eyes in the back of his bed. But when his only reply was a plaintive whine, I knew I had no choice. I slipped off my shoes and pants, but didn’t risk taking off any more clothing than that. The fact that Taylor was naked was bad enough.

Very, very carefully, I climbed into the bed with him. I was hoping to keep my distance, but of course Taylor was having none of that. In just a matter of seconds, he’d latched himself onto me like a leach, his naked body pressed up against mine so closely that I felt like I was suffocating.

“Miss you so much…” he mumbled. “Feels like I haven’t seen you at all lately.”

That time, I really didn’t care if he saw me roll my eyes. “That’s because you decided we shouldn’t spend any time together.”

“Oh, right,” he replied, giggling. “I forgot. That was a stupid idea.”

“Was it?” I asked.

“Mhm,” Taylor said. “Miss my Zaccy… but he’s got Carrick now, so…”

I desperately wanted to tell him that I wasn’t _his_ Zaccy, but I knew that wasn’t true. There were just so many things wrong with his statement that I didn’t even know how to begin untangling all of his misconceptions. So I didn’t say anything at all.

Taylor just scooted even closer to me and nuzzled my neck. “You’re gonna stay with me tonight, right?”

I sighed. “Of course.”

“Good,” he said, punctuating the word with a kiss to my neck. If I couldn’t already smell the liquor on his breath, it was branded into my skin then, right along with the impression of Taylor’s scorching hot lips. “Don’t leave me again, ‘kay?”

“I didn’t leave you in the first place,” I mumbled.

“Well, don’t do it again,” he huffed.

I was truly beginning to regret letting Taylor drag me to his room. If having his naked body all over me wasn’t bad enough, now I was forced to listen to him rambling about how I’d apparently left him for Carrick. Was that really how he saw it? It was just absurd. But he was drunk, I had to remind myself. There couldn’t possibly be any reasoning with him when he was shitfaced.

“How long have you been with him?” Taylor asked, the question breaking the silence and making me jump a little.

I blinked at him, although it was so dark in the room that it didn’t really help any. “I’m not… Tay, Carrick is just my friend. Seriously.”

“Yeah, right.”

“He is,” I replied firmly. “I’m not going to argue about this with you when you’re drunk.”

“Are you mad at me?”

I stared at him. “For _what_?”

“For getting drunk,” he said. “I always do stupid shit… getting fucked up, cheating… you shouldn’t put up with me.”

“I kind of have to, Tay. You’re my brother and, oh yeah, we’re in a band together, too.”

He sighed loudly and exaggeratedly. “I mean you should probably just go be with Carrick… he’s better for you…”

“Maybe,” I admitted. “But maybe not.”

I was going to have to answer for that one, I was sure. Hadn’t I basically admitted that I wanted him and not Carrick? In everything that we had done, I’d never told him how I felt. It seemed obvious to me, but Taylor’s words and actions made it clear that he didn’t know. I braced myself for whatever Taylor would say in return, but no reply came. It only took me a few seconds to realize why.

He had passed out and was snoring against my neck. It tickled.

With a sigh, I wiggled out of his grip, but even completely passed out, he somehow managed to pull me back. I still tried to maneuver around so that the sheets were keeping his nakedness away from me. I was surprised that he didn’t come on to me in any way, considering he was already naked. The last thing I needed was to have sex with Taylor while he was too drunk to even remember it. He might have been lucid enough to talk, but I didn’t think he had a single clue what he was saying.

It was better that he was passed out, really.

Until his recent visit to my apartment, I couldn’t even remember the last time Taylor and I had shared a bed. It happened a lot when we were younger, and it was probably the reason I felt so much better sleeping with someone next to me. Even when he was drunk and technically passed out, not asleep, Taylor was still a nice person to share a bed with. It might have been the one and only time when he wasn’t selfish and annoying.

He was just… warm. And cuddly.

Despite the awkward nakedness, I managed to make myself comfortable next to him, cradling his stupid head against my chest. In only a matter of minutes, I felt myself beginning to drift off.

The next thing I knew was sunlight streaming in through the window and hurting my eyes even before I opened them. Oh, California. The sunlight didn’t bother me nearly as much as the realization that I was alone, though. But where could Taylor have gone? It was _his_ room. Only Taylor would possibly leave his own hotel room to get away from someone the next morning.

Within seconds, though, I knew that he wasn’t gone. The awful sound of him heaving into the toilet hit my ears. It just sounded like a lot of coughing and hacking, but it was still completely disgusting. I pulled the covers up over my face to drown out both the sound and the stupid sunlight.

Moments later, Taylor walked back into the room, still coughing. He leaned heavily against the wall, shaking just a little. At some point, he’d managed to pull on a pair of boxers but that was as close as he’d gotten to fully dressed.

“What the fuck did I _do_ last night?” He asked.

“My guess would be a dozen or so shots and possibly Alex Greenwald.”

“I didn’t do Alex,” he replied, rolling his eyes. With a smirk, he added, “I would definitely remember that.”

As if I’d needed any confirmation of the relationship I thought existed between the two of them, there it was. Now I thought _I_ might be sick.

“So what are you doing here?”

I stared blankly at him. “You wanted to cuddle.”

“Oh,” Taylor replied with a snort. “Well, did we cuddle?”

“Yes. We did.”

Taylor shook his head. “I really don’t remember at all… everything after I got to Alex’s house is a blur, really.”

“Yeah,” I replied with a sigh. “I figured it would be.”

“Well, thanks for taking care of me or whatever…” Taylor said, a hint of… something in his voice. It wasn’t sarcasm, but…

He didn’t believe me. Did he really think I would take advantage of him when he was drunk, or did he think I was just bending the truth a little? He was the one who seemed to have it so bad for me last night, and now he was practically mocking me just for being in his bed.

“Yeah,” I managed to choke out. “You’re welcome…”

He seemed to be considering something for a moment, and after going through a few other emotions, his face finally fixed itself into a pathetic pout. “Do you think maybe you could go get me a coffee?”

“A coffee?” I echoed, staring up at him.

Taylor nodded. “Mhm. You know it would make this hangover better… I’m sure they have some downstairs, or I think there was a coffee shop next door…”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Yeah, alright. I’ll be back soon.”

“Thanks,” Taylor replied, quickly disappearing back into the bathroom.

As soon as he was out of sight, I rolled my eyes. I supposed I really shouldn’t have been surprised at all at how much he was using me. Whatever he’d said when he was drunk wasn’t to be believed, and I’d known that, but there was still a tiny part of myself that got its hopes up… only to have Taylor dash them once again.

So. Coffee. That was all I was good for, I supposed.

I pulled myself out of bed with a groan and put back on the clothes I’d discarded the night before. I really hoped I didn’t have to leave the hotel to find Taylor his precious coffee, but even if I did, I would, and I didn’t give a damn that I was still wearing yesterday’s clothes. I was in no mood at all to be friendly or try to impress anyone.

Those were usually the days when I would inevitably end up running into a huge crowd of fans, but luckily I made it to the hotel lobby without seeing a single other person.

Just as Taylor had said, there was a little continental breakfast stand in a corner of the lobby, and somehow, we’d managed to be awake early enough for it. I supposed we had Taylor’s dry heaves to thank for that. The coffee didn’t look especially fresh, but I decided that Taylor would just have to deal with it. I poured two large cups of it, then wrapped up a donut in a napkin for myself. Carefully balancing it all, I began retracing my steps back to Taylor’s room.

As soon as I stepped off the elevator onto our floor, I saw Carrick walking out of our room. I had to resist the urge to turn right back around and get in the elevator again.

“Zac?” He asked. “What are you doing?”

“Waiting on the princess,” I replied. “The hungover princess.”

Carrick gave a tiny chuckle, but he didn’t look all that amused. “Oh… well, I guess I’ll let you get back to him. We’ve got bus call in about an hour, though.”

“Yeah, know,” I said, taking a few hesitant steps closer to him. “Are we… are we alright?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Carrick asked, his face completely blank.

I shrugged. “I dunno… it’s just… nevermind.”

“Okay,” he replied. “Well, I guess I’ll see you soon.”

As I watched him walk away, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, I decided that I really didn’t believe him at all. We weren’t fine, and I was certain that Taylor was to blame for it.


	10. Princess

Once I had delivered his coffee, Taylor seemingly wanted nothing to do with me. He snatched the cups from my hands and gulped them both down in a matter of minutes, ignoring me entirely. I should have expected that and I knew it, but that didn’t make it sting any less.

With nothing left to do but stare at him as he took his time getting dressed and ready to leave for San Diego, I decided just to leave. Taylor didn’t even say a word as I turned and walked out of the room.

I really don’t know what I had expected from him, but it wasn’t that sort of complete dismissal. I couldn’t think of anything I had done to upset him, so I decided the problem had to lie elsewhere. Was he upset with himself for being so friendly with me when he was drunk? That seemed like a distinct possibility. There was a large part of his night that I couldn’t account for, though. What if something had happened when he was at the party? Surely he would need some kind of provocation to get that drunk.

Alex. It had to be Alex, I decided.

I was willing to admit a bit of bias. Even without Taylor’s near confirmation that he and Alex had some sort of relationship, I had never liked him. They had always been too close for my comfort, and I knew, without Taylor even saying it, that they had slept together. The fact that they hadn’t spoken for years until suddenly Taylor decided to go get drunk with him while I was with Carrick had to mean something. It just had to. I didn’t think I was reading too much into that or jumping to any absurd conclusions.

With my mind made up, I felt a little bit better about the way Taylor had treated me. It didn’t entirely improve my mood, but it did give me the push I needed to take a shower, pack my things and get ready to start the day. It was going to be a long one, especially if Taylor was still acting strangely, but I had Carrick to fall back on.

I hoped.

He had seemed so strange when he left the room, but I hoped _that_ didn’t have anything to do with me, either. Still, I couldn’t help thinking it was because of Taylor. Whatever the cause, though, I was confident we could sort it out. Carrick was far easier to get a straight answer out of than Taylor was.

I didn’t waste any more time in the hotel that absolutely necessary. Once I finished showering and throwing everything back into my bag, I hurried downstairs. The continental breakfast was still out, so I grabbed another donut on my way to the bus. I was a little early, surprisingly, but I didn’t see the need to stick around. I wasn’t going to accomplish anything by trying to talk to Taylor. That much was obvious. But maybe I could get through to Carrick.

Will was loading his bag onto the bus when I walked up, and I helped him shove it in before adding mine. Once we finished, I asked him if Carrick was on the bus.

“Should be soon,” he replied. “I think he just went to get breakfast or brunch or whatever somewhere.”

I could wait, I supposed. I would have to wait anyway for everyone else to load in so that we could leave. Since I was feeling antsy, I decided a video game would calm my nerves. If I had the bus entirely to myself, I would have smoked a bowl too.

It wasn’t long before the rest of the band and crew made their way onto the bus. I caught a brief glance of Taylor when I leaned over to look up the hallway of the bus, but he had his back turned to me. Even if he didn’t do it on purpose, it still felt like a snub. Carrick ended up being the last person onto the bus, something that resembled a breakfast burrito clutched in his fist. His mood seemed entirely different than it had earlier that morning. Whatever the reason for that, I was glad.

He practically _moaned_ when he took a huge bite of the burrito, then collapsed happily onto the couch next to me.

“Munchies?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nah, just hungry. You know I’m even more of a human garbage disposal than you are,” he replied, smirking.

It was true. Somehow, he could pack away stupidly large amounts of food and still be skinnier than Taylor. I kind of hated him for it, but mostly I was just jealous. I wouldn’t have admitted that, though.

“So, how’s the princess? He’s wearing his sunglasses indoors now.”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s fine. Probably has one hell of a hangover, but he treats each one like it’s the first he’s ever had. You’d think he was dying after one bad night.”

Carrick nodded, and I knew that he knew about Taylor’s party habits. That was how they had met, after all. Remembering that Alex had introduced the two of them, I decided that maybe I could get some answers from Carrick. Considering the way he seemed to feel about Taylor lately, though, I would have to tread carefully, but I couldn’t resist trying.

“So, umm… how close are you and Alex anyway?”

Carrick raised an eyebrow. “We really don’t hang out that much anymore.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” I said quickly. “It’s just, you know, him and Taylor… I honestly never really knew what happened there.”

He nodded slowly. “Well, you’re probably better off asking him.”

“I know,” I replied. “He’s just being… well, Taylor. I just thought maybe you knew more about it from Alex’s side. Taylor’s not exactly going to be unbiased.”

“They were definitely together, if that’s what you’re asking. When Alex introduced me to him, the word boyfriend was pretty strongly implied. But I guess Taylor wasn’t really _out_ then…”

I shook my head. “No, he wasn’t. And I knew they had… some kind of big blowup after everything with Natalie. I guess… you know, I think I always knew they dated, but it just seemed like there was something more to it. It’s always seemed like… like they were just pulled to each other, and then they’d repel each other again. Like really dysfunctional magnets.”

Carrick snickered at that, but then nodded. “I think that’s a very good way to describe them. And Alex is just… he’s just on this course of total self destruction, and I’m not blaming Taylor for that, but he’s just getting worse and worse. That’s the biggest reason why he and I really don’t hang out that much anymore. I just can’t watch him party himself away into nothingness, you know? If he’s happy, cool…”

“But he’s probably not,” I finished for him. “And Taylor’s not either, but he refuses to admit it, too.”

“Do you think you can make him happy?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted with a sigh. “I just wish he would figure out if I’m the problem or if his feelings for me are. But right now… I just want to go back to sleep.”

“Didn’t you sleep well with the big drunk baby?” Carrick asked, tossing his burrito wrapper aside.

“Well enough, but it’s just one of those days when even sleeping the _whole_ day wouldn’t wake me up.”

Carrick chuckled, but motioned for me to scoot closer. I obliged and curled willingly into his arms. “Poor baby… nap time, then?”

“Mhm,” I replied, practically nuzzling his chest.

The bus rumbled to life as we cuddled closer together. I could hear voices all around, but so far none of them had approached us. I really didn’t care if they did. If Taylor was going to be a gigantic douchebag to me when I’d only done what he asked of me, then I was done. Maybe Carrick _would_ be better for me. He couldn’t have been much worse, I decided.

We slept like that for the rest of the bus ride, only waking up briefly whenever anyone ventured into the back lounge. Taylor wasn’t among those people, and I didn’t know whether to be upset about that or not. I was pretty much done trying to figure out what he was thinking and feeling.

Except, there was still this nagging feeling at that back of my mind, telling me that I hadn’t figured him out yet and that I ought to try just a little bit harder to get inside his brain. By the time we arrived at the hotel in San Diego, that voice had won.

Once we had checked in and carried our bags to our rooms, everyone began to divide up for lunch. I figured this was my best chance with Taylor, and I quickly agreed to go with him for pizza. I didn’t even want pizza, but I didn’t care. It would give me a chance to get him alone, and maybe I could get him to talk. He seemed less than thrilled to have me tagging along, but he didn’t comment on that, and soon we were walking down the street to the nearest pizza place.

Taylor decided to order our pizza to go, presumably so he could hole up in his room and ignore me. That meant I didn’t have as much time to talk to him, and I was failing already. I hadn’t even managed to say a single word to him that wasn’t related to pizza toppings.

“So, umm,” I began, clearing my throat. “How’s that hangover?”

He shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Since when do you even hang out with Alex anymore?” Well, so much for easing into the conversation.

“Since when do you care?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? I came and rescued your ass from his party, Tay. I stayed with you all night. What part of that says that I don’t care?”

Taylor just shrugged. That was incredibly helpful. If he could have just stopped trying to deny what was right in front of his eyes… but how could I make him see it? I didn’t know what more to do.

“Look, I just… you know, you got pretty shitfaced. So yeah, I was concerned. But if you don’t want to talk about it, fine.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he replied, all but flipping his hair dismissively as he turned away from me and retrieved our pizzas. Perfect timing.

“Yeah, okay. Keep telling yourself that,” I mumbled as I yanked my pizza and Carrick’s–he’d wisely chosen not to join us–from Taylor’s hands.

Taylor practically sprinted away from me on the way back to the hotel. He couldn’t have made it any more clear that he wanted to avoid me entirely, but I was beginning to understand why. He was running from his problems. Some of those problems were related to me, yes, but I knew that the fact that I was poking at all of his problems was the bigger issue. I knew Alex was a sore spot for him, so I was poking at it, irritating it further. So what was Taylor doing? Running.

It was just so typically Taylor.

He was such a drama queen, such a bitchy little princess, but when he didn’t want to face things, he ran from them. And somehow, it only served to cause even more drama. It was just an endless cycle, and I was determined to break it… somehow.

I just had to figure out _how_.


	11. Smoke

The rest of the day was a blur. We went from lunch to a radio station then to the venue for the walk and the concert. There was little time to breathe, and definitely no time to waste thinking about my problems with Taylor. In a way, that was a good thing. The busier I was, the easier it was turn off the parts of my mind that liked to constantly torture me.

There was a downside to being on the go, though. It might have given my mind a temporary break from thoughts of Taylor, but it shoved all kinds of other anxiety inducing thoughts into it. I had to keep a wide berth from Taylor while also acting like things were normal in front of the fans, deal with the fans in general, act charming for the radio people and get through a concert with little to no mistakes.

It wasn’t easy under the best of circumstances, but when my nerves were already frayed, it was damn near impossible.

Thankfully, Carrick could read my mind. As soon as I stepped off the stage and pulled my phone from my pocket, I saw a text waiting from him. It assured me that he was already waiting on the bus with a big blunt that had my name written on it.

I _knew_ there was a reason I invited him on this tour.

I took the quickest shower possible, not even pausing to dry my hair, and hurried out to the bus. I’d done a good job of greeting the fans during this entire tour, so I decided that I deserved one night off. Carrick and I had some good times before trying to sign autographs while stupidly high, but this time, I was planning not to even move from the bus couch until we were back to the hotel. The fans could live one night without me, I was sure.

It was fairly easy to sneak past them and onto the bus. There was a tiny hint of pot smoke in the air, but I was sure Carrick hadn’t started without me. At least, I was hoping that he hadn’t. Sure enough, he was just lighting it up when I reached the back of the bus. After taking a quick hit of his own, he held out what was indeed a rather large blunt to me. I couldn’t have stopped myself from smiling even if I had tried.

“How did you know I needed this?” I asked as I flopped down on the couch next to him.

Carrick shrugged. “Just had a feeling. When don’t you need some of this good California weed, though?”

He had a good point. The stuff he got out here was inevitably always far superior to what I could get back in Oklahoma. I settled far back into the couch to enjoy it, and soon we were passing it back and forth happily, the room around us filling up with a thick cloud of smoke.

I barely registered the sound of the bus door opening. It seemed like it was miles away, and I really was in no condition to care at all who had walked onto the bus. No one but Taylor seemed to ever care about my smoking habits. At least, none of them had complained to my face, so I really had no intention at all to stop.

The door I’d forgotten to lock slid open and revealed Taylor standing there. That shouldn’t have surprised me at all. The first words out of his mouth definitely did, though.

“You guys mind sharing?”

I looked at Carrick, and he just shrugged. That was helpful. I could still see doubt in his bloodshot eyes, but if he wasn’t going to voice it, then I wasn’t going to acknowledge it.

“Yeah, sure,” I said. “I guess we can share.”

Taylor sat down next to me, a little closer than I expected, and I handed him the blunt. He was lucky Carrick had felt the need to roll such a big one or he wouldn’t have gotten there in time to mooch.

And why the hell _was_ he mooching, anyway?

Once again, Taylor completely baffled me. This seemed like a complete mood swing, a total reversal of his earlier desire to be as far away from me as possible. Now he was inching ever closer to me as the three of us silently worked our way through what remained of Carrick’s weed. I turned on a video game just to drown out the silence and give myself something to think about other than Taylor’s incomprehensible actions.

If I was bad to zone out on my video games when I was sober, then I was even worse when I was stoned. The outside world simply did not exist once my game was going. I was vaguely aware of the moment when Taylor and Carrick stopped passing the joint around, but somewhere in the back my mind, I knew that I probably didn’t really _need_ any more. I was definitely feeling it, and once I stopped focusing on the game, I would probably just sink right down into the couch and disappear.

And that was fine by me.

A hard nudge from Taylor pulled me back from my video game world, and my first instinct was to scowl at him. Then I remembered how much he’d been ignoring me, and I decided that I wasn’t going to let this, however small it might be, slip by me. Even if he was probably just asking to smoke more of our stuff.

“Will you come outside with me?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I was going to go smoke,” he replied.

“You just did.”

Taylor rolled his eyes. “I mean a cigarette… you know I don’t smoke those on the bus.”

For whatever reason, we had an unspoken rule about that, but the weed seemed to be just fine. Why Taylor wanted me to join him for a cigarette, though, I had no clue. But again, I wasn’t going to let any chance to spend time with him slip by me, especially not if it was Taylor’s idea.

With one last look at Carrick, as though I needed his approval, I turned off my video game and set down the controller. I turned back to Taylor and said, “Yeah, alright. I’ll go with you.”

He stood up without a word and began to walk back to the front of the bus, only pausing at his bunk to grab a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. I stayed a few steps behind him as he walked off the bus and toward a secluded spot to the side of the venue. There was an alleyway there that should have been off limits to the fans. It definitely looked private, which made me wonder what Taylor had in mind. Then again, maybe he just wanted to avoid the fans. I could understand that.

Taylor leaned heavily against the brick wall as he lit his cigarette and took the first long draw off it. I couldn’t help watching him. It didn’t matter how angry I was at him, he was still the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen. That was the problem. No matter what, there didn’t seem to be anything that could stop that primal instinct I had, that complete infatuation that clouded everything else I ever felt. All other feelings paled in comparison to the sheer sight of Taylor, even when he was doing nothing more than sucking on a cigarette.

It was pathetic how bad I had it for him, and I didn’t understand how he couldn’t see that. Maybe he just didn’t want to see it. Sometimes I wished I could turn the feeling off or run away from it, but I didn’t have that option.

“So,” Taylor said, exhaling a huge cloud of smoke right into my face. “You wanna know the deal with Alex?”

“It would be nice, yeah,” I replied.

“Why do you care so much?”

I just stared at him. “Because I care about you. And you’re obviously going through some shit.”

Taylor snorted at that, and I was just glad he hadn’t actually replied with words. I knew that I was part of his problem lately; I wasn’t stupid enough to think that I wasn’t. But I still had to believe that somehow he could see that I wasn’t _trying_ to make his life hell. If I was, though, he probably deserved it. If my life was hell because of him, why couldn’t I return the favor?

“So what’s going on?” I asked, trying to sound as understanding as I hoped I could be once I’d heard whatever it was he wanted to tell me.

“Well… I guess, the thing with Alex,” he said. “You know, we… umm, we were together or whatever. That kinda blew up in my face thanks to Natalie, though. And I _know_ I was an idiot for trying to be with both of them at the same time.”

“Idiot is one word for it, yeah,” I couldn’t resist saying. When Taylor cringed, I added, “Sorry… continue.”

With a little huff, he continued, “Well, you know… that kind of ruined things with him. He knew I was with her, but I guess it just got too much to handle, and I still wasn’t ready to… to come out.”

I nodded. I could understand that, at least, although my closed lips had more to do with thinking it wasn’t anyone’s damn business whether I was straight or gay.

“So… you know, we tried to keep in touch, but things were never the same. And that’s it, I guess. It’s just always this big fight whenever we see each other, but sometimes we just can’t stay away.”

 _Sounds familiar_ , I thought but wisely chose not to say.

Taylor paused then for another long drag on his cigarette. After exhaling, he said, “So, you know, I guess I figured… we were in LA, he’s in LA, might as well call him and catch up. And I guess things got out of hand.”

“We’re in LA all the time, though,” I replied. “Why this time? And _why_ did things get out of hand?”

Taylor gave me a pointed stare. Because of _me_? Because I had Carrick? He didn’t say that, but the look in his eyes did.

Suddenly, without warning, he threw his cigarette onto the ground and stomped it out. He ground it away to nothing with the toe of his boot like it was my face or something. And I felt about as low as that, too—just something on the ground for Taylor to stomp on.

That was stupid, though. I knew had done things wrong, but having a _friend_ who I wanted around, a friend who wasn’t Taylor, wasn’t one of them. It wasn’t my fault that Taylor got so jealous that he couldn’t handle it and ran off to his ex for comfort and liquor. Then again, I had done worse when I was jealous, hadn’t I? I had pushed him to this. I had pushed and pushed and pushed until he gave in to my awful desires.

In a way, I guess it was my fault.

Taylor shoved past me, rudely slamming into my shoulder as he went by. It seemed to be one step forward and two steps back with him. Even though he admitted a little bit of the truth to me, it was obvious he was still not letting it all go. He only said just enough to appease me for the moment, and not enough to really let me in.

I didn’t know how, but I was determined to keep pushing. It had been what started this whole downward spiral, but if anyone could fix it, it was me. I had started it. It was my problem to solve. So I was going to keep pushing until Taylor finally let me all the way in.


	12. Used

It was so much easier to _say_ I was going to keep pushing Taylor than it was to actually do it. It was hard to push someone who was already pushing me away. He was holding me at such a distance that there was little I could do.

I supposed he thought he had given me enough and that I should be satisfied and leave him alone. I wasn’t, though. What he’d told me about Alex, and what he’d alluded to about me, only made me even more curious. I wanted to unravel the puzzle that was Taylor. If I could, maybe I could finally understand why I felt the way I did about him. Doing so wouldn’t change those feelings, I was sure, but maybe it would make them easier to deal with. I could only hope.

But it didn’t matter. I couldn’t get near him at all.

We had the next day off, and Taylor made every excuse possible to get away from me. I would have been even more upset by that if I hadn’t had Carrick. There was a tiny chance that I was using him to replace Taylor, in a way. It wasn’t as bad as that sounds, though. They were both important to me, in very different ways. But when Taylor was blatantly ignoring me, I couldn’t help clinging harder to Carrick.

Just like I needed, it was a relaxing day. We started it off by smoking a joint out the window of our hotel room, which was a risky move, but I didn’t care. If you can’t get stoned in semi-public in California, where can you? The rest of the day we spent walking around the city, no doubt looking like boyfriends but doing nothing to stop anyone who saw us from thinking that. Again, if not in California, then where?

As much as I hoped it would, the day alone with Carrick still didn’t manage to chase the thoughts of Taylor from my mind, and I knew that Carrick could tell.

It was just stupid, awful chance that we happened to return the hotel at exactly the same time as Taylor. He ignored us both completely, of course, practically sprinting to the elevator in front of us and letting it close behind him. When we finally made it to our room, I walked straight in and collapsed face first onto the bed with a loud groan.

“The fuck is his problem?” Carrick asked. “Is it me?”

I shook my head, even though I wasn’t sure the gesture could really be seen considering my position. “No… I mean, kind of, but just because he’s jealous and refuses to admit it. It’s really just me, though.”

“Why is it about you, though? What did you do?” He asked, sitting down next to me so gently that I barely even felt the bed move.

“I forced him to feel something, I guess.”

“How awful of you,” Carrick mumbled, nudging me gently. I scooted over and he stretched out across the bed next to me. “Taylor is going to have to get over himself, Zac. But that’s something _he_ has to do. You can’t make him.”

I turned to face Carrick and pouted. “It would be so much easier if I could.”

“I know,” Carrick replied, rubbing my back gently. “But you’re just making this harder on yourself. You have to realize what’s out of your control, and what Taylor does… what Taylor feels… is definitely not something you can control.”

“You mean he’s not my puppet?” I asked, smirking.

Carrick chuckled and shook his head. “No, he’s not. But would you really want him to be? Isn’t it better if he does what _he_ wants and not just what you’re forcing him to do?”

I sighed. “No, I guess you’re right. I just wish… I just wish he would let himself do what he wants.”

“Meaning you.”

“Meaning me,” I replied, snickering.

Carrick rolled his eyes and nudged me. I made a show of falling off the bed, even though he’d barely touched me, and he quickly wrapped his arms around my waist to “save me.” He pulled me in close, arms still wrapped tightly around me, and my heart started racing.

Despite how much Carrick and I had cuddled lately, we hadn’t been close like this in a long time. Something about this was different. I wondered at first if I was reading too much into things and it was just my pathetic loneliness making a perfectly normal friendly moment seem like more, but the look in Carrick’s eyes said it all. I caught his eyes for a moment, then watched them flutter shut, entranced by his long, dark lashes.

I’m not sure which of us moved in first, but it didn’t matter. The result—a kiss unlike any I’d shared with Taylor—was the important part. I’d forgotten what it felt like to kiss Carrick; I’d rarely been sober for any of the kisses we’d shared in the past. He moved slowly, with a confidence that was so, so sexy. I didn’t mind letting him take the lead at all, my mouth falling open for him as he eased me onto my back.

I needed this, I decided. I needed something other than Taylor—and something that wasn’t some sleazy public restroom blowjob. I needed something I wouldn’t regret in the morning, and that was most definitely Carrick.

Taylor didn’t know, but he was a little bit right. This wasn’t the first time Carrick and I had done this. It had been years, though, but it was like playing an old song you thought you’d forgotten. The notes came flooding back to me so easily, like they’d been on the tips of my fingers, just waiting for me.

This was definitely what I needed. _Carrick_ was definitely what I needed.

My hands crept under his shirt practically of their own accord, but he didn’t complain. His back arched at my touch, and I couldn’t stop myself from peeling his shirt off entirely, only breaking our kiss for the length of time it took to toss his shirt across the room. Seconds later he was pawing at my shirt, and I obliged by lifting myself up so he could send it sailing across the room to meet his.

“Are you sure about this?” Carrick mumbled against my neck as his hands crept down my sides.

I nodded vehemently. “Yes… please, Carrick.”

So what if I sounded pathetic, begging like that? I was pathetic; there was no point in hiding it.

Carrick didn’t seem to mind, though. If anything, he seemed to think my patheticness was cute. With a soft chuckle, he slid his hand below the waistband of my jeans, easily finding the bulge I was slightly ashamed to admit was already waiting there for him. Until Taylor, I’d been practically celibate for years, but it seemed that now that I’d woken up my sex drive, it was becoming insatiable. I unbuttoned and unzipped my own pants just to give myself a little relief and give Carrick a little more room to work his magic.

And magic it was.

Moments later, we were both completely naked, our flesh burning hot as it touched. This was different from being with Taylor somehow, though. There was still lust, but there was something else. Having sex with my best friend should have been weird, but no weirder than having sex with my brother, I supposed. It was usually a little slower and gentler, but I guess we were making up for lost time this time. As time passed, we seemed to grow more and more fevered, our hands dancing quickly across each others’ flesh and our hips crashing almost painfully together.

“Carrick,” I gasped out. “Please… I just need…”

He nodded, and I let out a sigh of relief, because I really wasn’t doing a very good job of finishing that sentence. I looked pathetic enough anyway, without begging him to fuck me.

Luckily, I didn’t have to beg any more than that.

I pointed him toward my suitcase where I knew I had a tube of lube. My dignity was definitely nowhere to be found, though, but I really didn’t care. I practically _whined_ when he had to leave the bed to retrieve the lube, and then let out a sigh of relief when he returned, crawling between my legs and pushing them apart.

I braced myself for a little pain, but none came. Carrick was gentle and tentative, and I let out a sigh as he eased his lube-slicked finger into me. Soon, I was pushing back against him, urging him to go deeper and be rougher with me. I didn’t care. I could take it. After everything I’d gone through with Taylor, it felt like I deserved a little pain. I certainly wasn’t going to complain if it hurt.

It didn’t, though. Although he sped up a little, and I did feel a tiny flicker of pain when he added a second finger, he was altogether quite gentle with me. Maybe that was okay. Maybe it was okay to slow down and actually enjoy it. I wasn’t sure I had ever really done that. With Taylor it had always been urgent and rushed for fear of getting caught—not that that actually _stopped_ us from getting caught. Every other time, except perhaps those few times Carrick and I got stoned and fooled around, it had only been about satisfying my lust.

I had never let emotions get involved. Even with Taylor, I had focused so much more on finally satisfying that physical need and nothing else.

I wasn’t sure exactly what needs I was satisfying with Carrick this time, but for once, I was willing to slow down a little and actually _enjoy_ scratching whatever itches needed scratching.

Eventually, though, I got tired of waiting. I wrapped one of my legs around his, pulling him closer to me, and gave his dick a few quick strokes, hoping he would take the hint. He did. He slipped his fingers out of me, and seconds later his dick replaced them.

For a moment, I don’t think either of us even took a breath. He stared down at me, his eyes full of an emotion I couldn’t quite place, and just… rested there, his dick barely pressing against me. The anticipation was almost painful, and finally, I couldn’t take it. I arched my back and lifted my hips, closing that teeny tiny gap between our bodies and forcing a low moan out of Carrick as he entered me.

There might have been a lot to be said for taking it slow, but it turned out that I really just didn’t have the patience for that.

Luckily, it didn’t take long for Carrick and I to fall into a perfect rhythm. I kept my legs wrapped tightly around him as he thrust into me, and I swear even our moans were in harmony. I didn’t even care that Taylor’s room was right next door. There was a part of me that almost hoped that he could hear us through the walls. If he was going to be jealous, then I was going to give him a damn good reason to be.

Another little voice in my head told me this meant I was probably using Carrick, but I did my best to ignore that voice. That voice was a jerk. And that voice shut up entirely the second that Carrick wrapped his hand around my dick.

His strokes were hard and fast, matching his thrusts, and I found myself too out of breath to even moan. All that came out were tiny little whimpers and stutters. It was pathetic, but I was beginning to realize that no other word described me better.

When all was said and done, the sex really didn’t last very long. I guess we both wanted and needed it too much, because it seemed like only seconds had passed when I felt Carrick begin to shake. Warmth filled me at the same moment that his beautiful moans filled my ears. His gorgeous voice was enough to push me over the edge, and I let out a little whine as I came all over his hand.

Even after Carrick pulled out of me and rolled off the bed, I was still seeing stars. I collapsed onto the sheets, breathing heavily, and shamelessly watched Carrick walk to the bathroom. There were just something about him… his tall, thin body, and the obvious confidence with which he carried himself.

Okay, so he reminded me of Taylor in some ways. I could admit that, at least to myself if to no one else.

I tried to push those things from my mind as he walked back into the room and tossed me a towel to clean myself up with. I really, really didn’t need any other reason to convince myself that I was just using Carrick a stand in for Taylor. I wasn’t. He was my best friend, and he was there for me in ways that Taylor never could or _would_ be. If anything, I was supplementing Taylor, not replacing him.

I wasn’t sure that was much better, though.

“You alright?” Carrick asked as he climbed into bed, curling up next to me much like a cat.

I tossed my now dirty towel into the floor and slowly rolled my sore body over so that I was facing Carrick. I nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You looked like you got a little lost in thought,” he remarked, then leaned in a gave me a quick peck on the lips. “Glad to see you’re back in the land of the living, though.”

I chuckled. “I am, yeah. I was just… yeah, I guess I was thinking a little bit.”

“About what?” He asked, wrapping his arms around me and slipping one of his legs casually between mine.

I shrugged slightly. “Nothing… well, just. Do you think this is going to make things weird?”

“Did it make things weird when we slept together before?”

“No, but…” But I hadn’t slept with Taylor then.

Carrick nodded, as though he knew what I was thinking without me saying it out loud. He probably did. He gave me another quick peck on the lips. “It’ll be different, I think. But it should be fine. Nothing ever has to _make_ anything weird. It’s more of a choice than people ever realize.”

I wasn’t sure I agreed with that, but I really wanted to believe it was true. I thought about how weird things had gotten with Taylor, though. I didn’t see any way that could have been avoided, aside from me not being a douchebag who practically forced myself on my brother and ruined his relationship. _That_ probably would have kept things from being weird.

“Anybody home?” Carrick asked, nudging his nose against my cheek and chuckling.

I laughed softly. “Yeah… yeah, just got lost again. I hope you’re right.”

“It’ll be fine,” he said, then kissed my cheek. “I promise.”

I didn’t think I had ever in my life wanted to believe something or someone as much as I wanted to believe him right then.


	13. Push and Pull

Even though bus call wasn’t particularly early the next day, I still groaned the second I heard a knock at our hotel door. Carrick and I hadn’t even bothered to get dressed again. We’d just rolled over, curled up and fallen asleep tangled together with little more than the sheet to cover us. I probably should have felt some sense of shame, but I didn’t. It wasn’t like anyone could see us.

I growled at whoever had knocked on the door, then waited a moment to see what sort of response that earned me. Nothing. I was pretty sure I heard their footsteps walking away, and a moment later I heard a softer knock that I was sure was on another door further down the hall. Good. I’d made my point. With that done, I curled back into Carrick’s arms and fell asleep again, amused that the entire exchange hadn’t disturbed his sleep at all.

Unfortunately, we couldn’t sleep all day. Only a few minutes later, there was another, louder knock at the door, and I knew we couldn’t ignore that one without being late for bus call and making everyone angry.

There wasn’t time for both of us to shower and still make it to the bus on time, so I insisted that Carrick go ahead. Everyone was used to my stench; if they could even pick it out of all the smells on our bus, I would have been seriously impressed. It was just a given that I smelled bad, really. I think people would have been more worried if I didn’t. Carrick only took a few minutes to get showered and redressed, and I used that time to brush my teeth, put on my own clothes and toss our stuff into our bags. I liked that we were both so relatively low maintenance, unlike certain other men in my life.

Within only a few minutes, we were loading our things onto the bus and making ourselves at home for the drive to San Francisco. I wouldn’t have minded a little more sleep, so I wasted no time stretching myself out across the couch and pulling a pillow over my face. As I think has already been established, I was shameless.

Through the slight buffer of the pillow, I could still hear people walking and talking around me, and I felt the rumble of the bus starting all the way down to my toes. I paid no mind to any of it, though. I just wanted to be dead to the world again, and I desperately wished that I still had Carrick curled up beside me. Unfortunately, there really wasn’t room for both of us on the couch, at least not in that particular position.

There also wasn’t room for whoever had decided to sit down on the end of the couch, practically on top of my feet. I had a feeling, even before I pulled the pillow from my eyes, that I could guess who it was.

Taylor.

“Isn’t there anywhere else you could sit?” I asked.

“Probably,” he said, his entire face curling into a look of disgust. “You know, you smell like sex.”

I hadn’t really considered that side effect of skipping my shower. We really hadn’t had time, though, and I didn’t think showering _with_ Carrick would have gotten either of us very clean…

I snapped out of that thought when I realized that Taylor was still talking.

“So you are still going to deny that you two are together?”

I rolled my eyes. “We’re not together. I’m not denying anything, Taylor.”

“I can smell it on you,” he hissed.

“There’s a difference between dating and fucking. You of all people ought to know that.”

Taylor huffed. “So, you’re just trying to be like me, then? Just fucking around?”

I sat down and scooted as far away from him as I could. “I’m definitely not trying to be like you. That’s just ridiculous. You know I have sex, Tay. I thought we had this conversation already.”

“I just didn’t know you had sex with _him_ ,” Taylor replied, spitting out the last word like it actually tasted bad.

“What is your problem with Carrick anyway? Is it just because I’ve had sex with him or has he actually done something—other than me—to offend you?”

“I don’t have a problem with him,” Taylor replied, frowning. “I just think it’s ridiculous that you invited him on tour just to try to make me jealous.”

“You really think that’s what this is about, Tay? That everything in my life just revolves around you?” I asked, choosing to ignore the fact that everything in my life really did.

“I don’t fucking know!” He screeched. “You won’t tell me anything, so how the hell am I supposed to know why you do anything?”

Once again, I chose to ignore that he had a point because he was pissing me off far too much for me to actually answer his more reasonable questions. I stood up, shaking him off when he reached for my arm to pull me back.

“I’m not telling you anything,” I replied, “because you’re not asking real questions. You’re being a smartass. And when things do get serious, you just run away. What would make me think you wouldn’t run the second I told you something real? So fuck it. I’m not giving you the chance.”

It was stupid, I knew, and it didn’t accomplish anything. It did make a point, though. And it felt damn good to storm away from Taylor, leaving him—I hoped—reeling there on the couch.

I practically pushed past the few people milling around the bunks until I was finally at the back of the bus. Just as I’d hoped, I found Carrick there, casually laying across the couch and reading a book while some of the crew played one of my video games. Under other circumstances, I would have taken out my anger on them for not even asking if they could, but right then I just didn’t even have the energy. I just wanted to curl up with Carrick and not even care who was watching me being pathetic and girly.

So I did exactly that. Well, I did almost that.

Carrick seemed to sense that I needed him, as he usually did, and he rearranged himself into a sitting position that took up slightly less room. I collapsed onto the couch next to him, barely able to keep myself from just curling up in his lap like a child. I could only imagine how much the crew would laugh at that, and that thought was the only thing that kept me from doing it.

“What’s wrong?” He asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. I could hear him clearly, but no one else in the room seemed to notice.

I shook my head. “Just… the same thing that’s always wrong. Taylor being Taylor.”

“What did he do this time?” Carrick asked, and I knew he had to be getting tired of asking that same question, especially when the answer rarely changed.

“Just pushed my buttons,” I replied, leaning my head against Carrick’s shoulder. That was innocent enough that I didn’t think anyone would notice, and they didn’t. “Asking about us again… telling me he knows that we…”

Carrick nodded, and I was glad. I didn’t want to risk finishing that sentence when we weren’t alone.

“I’m really beginning to think that he is jealous,” I admitted, and I could have sworn I saw Carrick smirk a little at that. I wondered if he was proud of himself for being right or for making Taylor jealous, but I didn’t ask. “I just… I just wish he would talk about what he’s really thinking and feeling instead of just being a smartass about everything.”

“It’s when he’s a smartass that you know you’re getting to him,” Carrick replied.

He had a point there. Taylor could be nice. I knew he could be. And I would rather he be annoying than keep running away from me the way he had for weeks. A completely infuriating emotional response was better than just watching him beat yet another retreat to avoid his own emotions.

Somehow, that only made me feel a tiny bit better, though.

Knowing that I wasn’t going to solve any of our problems that day, I settled in next to Carrick and napped the rest of the way to San Francisco. He tucked one arm around me so that he could hold his book out in front of him and keep me close, and I couldn’t have imagined a more comfortable position. Just before I drifted off, I was pretty sure I did hear the others snickering at the way we were cuddling, but I didn’t care at all.

Soon I was fast asleep, though, and totally oblivious to whatever was happening or being said around me. I didn’t wake up at all until the bus had already stopped at our hotel. Carrick gave me a soft nudge and I slowly rejoined the land of the living.

“Come on,” he said. “I think everyone else is already inside getting their rooms.”

Carrick stood up first and held his hand out to me. I didn’t hesitate to take it, but I dropped it as soon as we reached the front of the bus. I hoped that didn’t offend him, but I thought he understood there were certain things I wasn’t comfortable with yet. It had nothing to do with him or even with not wanting to come out of the closet.

Okay, maybe it had a little bit to do with not wanting to come out of the closet.

I just didn’t think my sexuality was anyone’s business at all. I was perfectly happy letting Taylor and his promiscuous ways hog that spotlight. Besides, my sexuality was tied up too tightly with my feelings for Taylor for me to be comfortable sharing it with the world. People might understand that I liked guys, but I didn’t think most of them would be so understanding about wanting my own brother.

Besides, it wasn’t like Carrick and I were together, no matter what Taylor thought. Walking around holding his hand would definitely give people the wrong idea.

It was just practical, anyway, not to hold hands as we walked into the hotel. We both needed our hands to carry in the small bags we were taking in for the night. For whatever reason, we’d scheduled enough days off during this tour that we had gotten to stay in a hotel every night so far. I knew the entire tour wouldn’t be so relaxed, but I was enjoying it. With all the other drama going on, it was nice to be able to spread out a little and have some privacy.

Everyone else was already gathered in the lobby and we made our way over to the huddle as quickly as possible. Without a word, Machine handed over the two matching key cards to us, and I swore I could feel Taylor glaring at me. I remembered doing the same to him when he began sharing a room with Seamus, though. I knew, even then, that I had no right to be jealous, but I couldn’t stop myself.

Maybe it was the same for Taylor now.

Still, with all the evidence in front of me, I just couldn’t see it. I couldn’t imagine that jealousy was actually in Taylor’s repertoire. That would require him to have actual emotions and actually care about another human being. I knew that was harsh, but until he began dating Shay, I had my doubts about whether my brother possessed any normal human emotions at all.

Now I was certain that he did. I just had no clue what the fuck they were.

We were nearly the last ones on the list to get our key cards, so it wasn’t long before Machine dismissed everyone and sent us off to our rooms with the reminder of what time we needed to be at the venue. It only gave us an hour or so to grab lunch, but I was going to make the most of even that little time away from Taylor. Before we were out of the lobby, Carrick was already talking about a vegetarian place that he wanted to visit. I wasn’t vegetarian by any means, but I was perfectly content to follow him around.

Maybe I _should_ have been with him. I feared that wouldn’t solve any of my problems, though. He might have been better for me than Taylor; actually, I was positive that he was.

But he just wasn’t Taylor.

That was the only thing that seemed to matter. No matter how much we fought, no matter how infuriating he was, I couldn’t get rid of my feelings for him. Everything in my life revolved around Taylor, and I knew that trying to date someone else, even someone as great as Carrick, wouldn’t change that.


	14. Date

I was in something of a daze as Carrick and I settled into our hotel room and then made our way to the restaurant he’d been raving about. I wasn’t especially excited about a vegetarian lunch, but I didn’t really have it in me to argue with him. There were other things on my mind, things that had me walking around like a zombie, too caught up in my thoughts to really pay attention to the world around me.

Maybe I _should_ date Carrick.

That thought kept repeating over and over in my mind, along with all the reasons for and against doing just that. On a practical level, I really didn’t have any good reasons not to date him. But my primal, gut level emotional reaction was that it wouldn’t change a damn thing. My feelings for Taylor wouldn’t ever go away.

But what if dating someone else was what I needed to finally get over Taylor? How would I know unless I tried it?

I had only ever truly _dated_ women, and we all know how well that worked out for me. Carrick was different, in more ways than just the obvious. I knew he could be good for me; he already _was_ good for me. What if having my first real boyfriend was what I needed?

Of course I couldn’t answer that question. My gut told me that it wouldn’t change a thing, but I just didn’t know. It was that doubt that kept these thoughts swirling around my mind, searching for an answer that I just didn’t have.

With those thoughts plaguing my mind, I barely managed to pick at my salad. The food was good, as Carrick had promised, but my appetite had apparently gone missing. I was still just lost in a fog, trying to find my way out of everything that was weighing so heavily on my mind.

“You’ve left the planet again,” Carrick remarked, poking me in the arm with his fork.

I rolled my eyes, then sighed. There was no point getting upset with him when he had done nothing wrong. I was just misplacing my anger, since Taylor kept running from it. “Sorry… god, you must hate me by now. I’ve been such a downer the whole time you’ve been with us, and it’s only been a few days.”

Carrick shrugged and went back to eating whatever it was he’d ordered. I was pretty sure it was made of beans. Or tofu. Or beans and tofu. After a few bites, he said, “You know I understand. I mean, I came on the tour because you were depressed and you needed a friend. So you don’t need to apologize for that; it’s why I’m here.”

“I know, I know,” I replied. “It’s just… you know, you shouldn’t have to put up with me being so annoying and down all the time.”

“Zac, I will always put up with you. No matter what.”

Carrick’s eyes were sincere and locked straight on mine when he said it. I was glad; it gave me the push I needed to steer the conversation in a direction I was unsure about, the direction I’d been thinking about all morning.

“Carrick, do you think… I mean… what we did…” Well, my mind wanted to go that direction, but my mouth seemed to have other plans. The words I wanted to say just wouldn’t come out of it at all.

“We had sex,” he said, his voice low. “It wasn’t the first time, either.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “I know, I know. That’s not what I mean. I was just thinking… I mean, maybe we should…”

I couldn’t finish it. I couldn’t ask that of him, and I didn’t know why. No, that was a lie. I did know why. Because I was too much trouble, too fucked up for him to have to deal with. It was one thing to be my best friend who I occasionally fooled around with. It was another thing to expect some sort of commitment from him when I knew I would always love Taylor. I just couldn’t do it.

“Maybe we should what?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “Do it again? Not do it again?”

I lowered my head and mumbled, “Date.”

I glanced up to find Carrick staring at me, his eyes wide. I was pretty sure it was only the second time I’d ever surprised him; the first time being when I drunkenly confessed my feelings for Taylor.

When Carrick still did nothing more than stare at me, I spoke again. “I mean, I’m not saying that I want to… or that we should, or…”

“Then what are you saying?” He asked. “Is this just because Taylor already thinks we are or whatever?”

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I mean… yeah, it is, in a way. I’m not saying we should date just because Taylor thinks we are, though. Just that it made me think, you know? Think about…. well, why aren’t we dating?”

With the faintest hint of a smirk, Carrick said, “Probably because you’re in love with someone else.”

“How has that never bothered you?” I asked. Although I distinctly remembered the look of shock when I told him the sordid details of my obsession with Taylor, it wasn’t long before he took it in stride. I couldn’t imagine most people would; Seamus was proof that some people would never understand.

Carrick shrugged. “I guess I could tell, even from the beginning of our friendship, that you were in love with someone. I may not have known who at the time, but the feelings were there and I could tell they ran deep. It didn’t really make _sense_ when I found out who, but it kind of did.”

“I can’t decide if _that_ makes sense or not,” I replied.

“Makes perfect sense to me,” Carrick replied with a smile. “There just always seemed to be something you weren’t telling me. Some sadness you were keeping inside. I couldn’t have guessed that it was all about Taylor, but knowing that it was… I guess it helped me to understand you better. You’re a bit of an enigma, Zac Hanson.”

“An enigma?” I asked, giggling. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever been called that.”

“Well, it’s true,” Carrick replied, returning my laughter. It didn’t last long, though, before his face fell into a more serious expression.

Knowing that I could avoid the real subject no longer, I asked, “So, what does any of that have to do with us dating?”

“Exactly like I said—you’re in love with someone else,” Carrick said, raising an eyebrow. After a short pause, he reached across the table stealthily and placed his hand over mine. “Look, I’ve come to terms with that. I’m your best friend, and I’m always going to be, okay? If you didn’t… feel that way about Taylor, then I don’t know. Maybe things could and would be different between us. But you do, and I know I can’t change that. So it doesn’t do us a lot of good to think about it, does it?”

I sighed and shook my head. “No, I guess it doesn’t. That’s all I’ve been doing lately, though. Just overthinking things and getting myself nowhere.”

“Maybe you should consider taking some action,” Carrick suggested, finally letting go of my hand and turning most of his attention back to his meal.

“I think I just tried,” I said, chuckling nervously. “But it wasn’t the right action, I guess. I’m not sure what is; that’s kind of my problem.”

Carrick nodded slowly. “Well, I can’t tell you what to do. I don’t understand Taylor any more than you do, and honestly, probably less. But you… I know you. I know how defensive you get sometimes. How much you lash out when things don’t go your way.”

I frowned, even though I knew he had a point. I flashed back to all the times I’d pushed Taylor around, sometimes literally, even going as far as to yell and punch when he angered me. It wasn’t an adult way of solving my problems, I knew, but when it came to Taylor, I regressed. Just one wrong look or word from him, and I was a stupid teenager again.

“Believe me, I know how frustrating Taylor can be,” Carrick continued with a chuckle. “But something’s got to give between you two. If you let him in, maybe he’ll let you in, and you guys can see what happens then.”

“I doubt it’s going to be what I want to happen.”

Carrick shrugged. “You never know. You can speculate and worry about it, but there’s really no way of knowing until you try.”

“Yeah…” I replied, but nodded. I knew, logically, that Carrick was right. There was nothing in his words that I could argue with, no matter how much I wanted to. I supposed he did have a point about me being argumentative; my immediate reaction of wanting to disagree with him went a long way toward proving that.

“I don’t know what the future holds, Zac,” Carrick said, pushing his plate away. “I can just tell you what I think is pretty practical advice for right now. You… Taylor… me… we’ll all just have to take things one day at a time, you know? See what happens. And what needs to happen right now is your soundcheck, so let’s head that way.”

With that, he tossed a few bills on the table and stood up. I still had plenty of food left, but no appetite for it. I tossed a few bills of my own on the table as a tip and stood up to follow Carrick. A part of me wanted to take his hand in mine as we walked out of the restaurant and onto the street, but I resisted it. We weren’t together. We weren’t going to be together. This fact had been very well established.

How I felt about that fact really didn’t matter, and truthfully, I wasn’t sure how I felt.

Even though I knew Carrick was right, it still stung a little bit to effectively be rejected by him. Rejection hurt, even if I knew I was in love with Taylor. My ego could still be bruised by people other than my stupidly perfect brother, it seemed. I didn’t know whether that was a good thing or not.

I didn’t have much time to ponder it further, though. It was only a short cab ride back to the venue, and then I was swept up into the flurry of activity that happens before a concert. We had soundcheck first, then a walk and little time for me to sit down and get lost in my thoughts again.

The only tiny bit of free time I had came after the walk, when our opening act was doing their soundcheck. I was kind of glad that we weren’t as close to this band. A Rocket To The Moon definitely weren’t the sort of band I would have picked to open for us, but they weren’t half bad. I was just happy that Taylor hadn’t found any pretty boy in the band to attach himself to. He and I both needed a break from that particular bad habit of his. I wasn’t sure which of us needed the break more.

Even though the band wasn’t all that bad, their soundcheck held no interest for me. It was my one little break, my one chance to breath all day. Naturally, I spent it holed up on the bus playing video games. I was surprised to see that I had the entire bus to myself; that didn’t happen often. I wasn’t going to complain, though. As much as I enjoyed having time alone, I had to do something with that time to keep myself from thinking too much.

To keep myself from thinking about Taylor.

Of course, the second his name crossed my mind, I heard the bus door open and I didn’t have to guess who it was. Seconds later, he appeared in the doorway, looking almost sheepish. That was an expression Taylor didn’t wear often, and it was enough to make me pause the game and look up at him.

“What do you want?” The question still came out far more harsh than I meant. Even knowing that I needed to stop being so aggressive with him wasn’t enough to actually make me do it, it seemed.

Taylor shrugged. “I was just… bored, I guess. Thought maybe we could talk.”

“About what?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Taylor shrugged again and took a few steps into the room. I didn’t offer him a seat next to me, but he took one anyway. “About… you and Carrick, I guess.”

“There is no me and Carrick,” I replied, tensing. I tried to take a few deep breaths but I still felt my anger bubbling up.

It just _happened_. How could I explain that to Carrick? Taylor just made me angry. There was no way to stop it.

“It sure seems like there is,” Taylor replied.

Like some sort of out of body experience, I tossed my controller down angrily and stood up. Taylor flinched, but I wasn’t going to hit him. I just needed to be away from him, needed to run away the way that he always did.

“You need to listen to me, Tay,” I said, glaring down at him. “There’s nothing between me and Carrick. We are just friends. And I don’t feel like talking to you about it any more than that, so you can just deal with whatever your problem is, but leave me out of it.”

That wasn’t so bad, I decided as I stormed away. As far as my anger went, that was fairly controlled and mature. I didn’t scream and I didn’t throw any punches. It wasn’t a lot of progress, but it was better than none at all.


	15. Bathroom Fetish

We had another concert and some promo to do in San Francisco the next day, so we all headed into the hotel early that night. Surprisingly, even Taylor took a night off from all the partying he seemed to be doing lately. I didn’t know what the deal was with that. He’d always been a heavy partier and drinker, but during the last few weeks, he’d gotten even worse.

I guess I only had myself to blame for that, really. I just didn’t want to admit it. If I lingered too long on all the ways I’d screwed up Taylor’s life, I’d probably slit my wrists and put us both out of our misery.

As much as I wanted to sleep in, I had to get up early for the radio thing. I drug myself out of bed at the last possible minute, glaring at Carrick’s still sleeping form in envy. I wished I could stay cuddled up next to him for the rest of the day. Failing that, I wished he would have agreed to come to the radio station with me. He was right to stay in the hotel, though. The less time he spent around Taylor, the less potential for drama. I hated that Taylor was taking out his frustration with me on Carrick, but I didn’t know how to make him stop.

We had been promised lunch at the radio station, and the thought of a nice catered lunch was really the only thing that motivated me to leave the room at all. Leaving the room meant leaving the one little sanctuary that I had. Leaving the room meant dealing with Taylor, and that was becoming more and more difficult by the day.

On the van ride to the station, I sat as far away from him as possible. I really was starting to feel like Taylor—deliberately putting space between us in the most childish way possible, just to avoid dealing with my problems. Maybe this was just easier. I didn’t know how long we could keep it up, though, without the band suffering even more. The drummer and pianist really did need to actually _talk_ at some point, even if just about music.

But maybe not yet. Even after we arrived at the radio station, I ignored him. It was a pretty impressive feat, considering we were both the first to descend upon the catering table. They’d laid out a nice feast for us, and I loaded down a plate with nachos, shrimp tacos, the works. Taylor only refilled his coffee cup, but I refrained from commenting on his lack of food. The way things had been doing with him lately, it seemed like any conversation would turn into an argument, no matter how innocent the subject matter.

I hated it, but I knew I was part of the problem. Until I figured out how to change, nothing about our situation would.

For some reason, we were at the radio station early. That was unusual for us. I supposed there was some mix-up with the schedule, and we were actually performing later than what we thought. Whatever the reason, it meant we were just sort of mingling with the people at the station for a while, making small talk and wasting time. All that free time made me wish even more that Carrick was there. I considered texting him, but I didn’t want to lay some sort of guilt trip on him.

Instead, I ended up just wandering around the station and ignoring everyone. I figured that was safer for everyone there. I was proving myself to be volatile and aggressive, and I feared I couldn’t even manage to only direct my anger at Taylor. It was just a matter of time before I lashed out at someone who deserved it far less than he did.

I was just rounding the corner near the station’s small bathroom for the third or fourth lap around the building when someone grabbed my arm. My immediate reaction was to pull back and prepare to fight whoever it was. That aggression thing really was getting out of hand. But when I spun around and saw that it was Taylor, I wasn’t so sure that my reaction had been undeserved.

“What do you want?” I spat, glaring at him.

Taylor just stared at me. The look in his eyes was confusing. It seemed to be a mixture of desperation and an attempt at seduction, but I couldn’t say for sure. I wanted so badly to see things in his eyes that I didn’t think I ever had or ever would that I just didn’t trust myself to interpret what I did see correctly.

“Well?” I asked. “What do you want?”

“You,” he said softly, not quite meeting my eyes.

I didn’t believe him. Taylor could look a person right in the eyes and lie to them, but he wasn’t good at it. Usually I could see through it. But when he wouldn’t even look at me, that was when I really knew he was trying to lie.

Or maybe he was telling the truth—a truth he wasn’t ready to face.

I took a step in closer and nudged his face upward so that I could look in his eyes. I still wasn’t sure what I saw there, except a whole lot more vulnerability than I was used to seeing. That was a little scary, but it kind of turned me on, too. And that was probably the only reason I gave in.

“Okay,” I said.

Taylor took my arm again and drug me into the bathroom, and I was powerless to stop him. To be honest, I wasn’t sure that I wanted to. I knew nothing good could come of this, but I was weak. It had been so long since we’d done more than kiss or just lay in bed together, barely touching. I needed him. Carrick was a decent substitute, but Taylor was my favorite drug. Nothing would ever live up to him. The fact that I was about to burst and all he’d done was drag me into a public restroom and lock the door was proof enough of that.

“You know, I don’t really have a weird bathroom fetish,” I said, trying to cut the awkward tension that had developed between us. This should have been smooth and natural, like it had been every other time, but something felt different about it. I couldn’t pinpoint what.

Taylor ignored my words, instead choosing to push me against the wall and shove his tongue down my throat. I guess that was to keep me from talking again, and it was probably a smart move. It didn’t even matter that I was strong enough to shove him off me and make him do whatever I wanted. I wouldn’t. Not right then.

In seconds, Taylor had abandoned my mouth and was on his knees. The sound of my zipper being ripped down seemed as loud as a gunshot. I knew we couldn’t have much time before someone realized we were missing, and we were taking a huge risk, but Taylor’s speed and aggression still surprised me. We’d always taken huge risks, though. And they usually hadn’t paid off.

That wasn’t going to stop me from letting him go through with whatever he had planned right then, though.

I pushed my hips forward to give him room to slide my pants down just enough. I’d been both lazy and in a hurry that morning, so underwear just hadn’t happened. Just my luck that it would end up being the day that Taylor decided to go down on me in a public bathroom. I guess my laziness had been strangely prophetic.

Taylor stared up at me for the briefest moment, and I still couldn’t read his expression. I didn’t have much time to interpret it, though, before he refocused his eyes on my dick, sucking it into his mouth all at once. He definitely wasn’t wasting any time, and when it felt that damn good, I was in no position to complain at all.

Taylor was good. Taylor was _damn_ good. I’d had blow jobs from more guys than I really cared to admit, but my brother was by far the best. I wouldn’t dare tell him that, of course, but I was reasonably certain that he already knew. He was just that conceited. In the few times we’d been together, he’d apparently learned every detail of my body. His mouth moved at exactly the right speed, and his hand applied just the right amount of pressure to my balls. It was more than I could take.

I stuffed my fist into my mouth to keep myself from moaning out loud. I really, really didn’t feel like testing out the acoustics of that radio station’s bathroom. Something about that thought almost made me giggle, but I fought it. I was fairly certain that giggling was not the reaction Taylor was looking for. My fist barely muffled the long groan I let out instead, and nothing at all muffled the crack my skull made when it collided with the wall behind me. I wasn’t sure if the stars I saw behind my eyes were because of Taylor or the concussion I’d probably given myself, and I didn’t care at all.

Taylor was completely focused on the task at hand, though. He showed absolutely no signs of stopping—not until he’d gotten what he wanted from me, at least. Given his expertise, that wasn’t going to take very long. I brushed a shaky hand through his hair, trying to push back his bangs so that I could watch him suck me closer and closer to my orgasm.

When it hit me, it hit me hard. I couldn’t have stopped myself from moaning even if I’d tried, and I could only hope that no one was walking by the bathroom right then. If anyone had been, they definitely would have heard me telling Taylor that I was about to come.

He didn’t stop even then. With a strangely intense look in his eyes, he stared up at me as he swallowed every drop I had. I was glued to the wall, unable to stop myself from watching him. I was fairly certain I could have gotten off on just the expression on his face. As it was, I didn’t think I would be able to walk out of the room under my own power. Every muscle in my body seemed to have turned to jello thanks to Taylor’s mouth.

I wasn’t sure he was ever going to let me go, but finally he did, his mouth making an absurd popping noise when he did. I barely even gave him a chance to breathe before I yanked him up by his collar and crushed our mouths together. I didn’t even care that I could really only taste myself on his tongue. I just need to kiss him. I needed to draw this out as long as I could and take as much as I could from him. If I had thought there was time to bend him over the bathroom’s sink and fuck him… I would have in a heartbeat.

But there wasn’t time. I knew there wasn’t time, and so did Taylor.

He shoved me away, and I wanted to be angry, but I couldn’t—at least no angrier than I seemed to be just by default when he was around. I shoved myself back into my pants while Taylor walked over to the sink to wash his face. There were a million questions in my mind, but one seemed to float to the surface above all the others.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Taylor asked, catching my eye in the mirror.

“We haven’t… done anything like that for weeks. Why now?”

Taylor shrugged. “I said I wanted you. Shouldn’t that make you happy?”

It should have. But for some reason that I couldn’t quite put into words, it didn’t. I didn’t trust him or the feelings he suddenly claimed to have. I could do no more than shake my head.

“Then I don’t know what to tell you,” Taylor said, a slight chuckle escaping his mouth like he somehow found it funny that I was at such a loss.

“Were you… are you jealous?” I asked. I doubted he would answer, but the question fell from my mouth before I could stop myself. He just _had_ to be. It was becoming more and more obvious that that was the only explanation for any of Taylor’s recent behavior.

“Of the guy you’re not dating?” Taylor asked, spinning around to face me. He rolled his eyes. “Yes, I am. Because that makes perfect sense. If you’re not dating him, what have I got to be jealous of?”

“Just because I’m not with him doesn’t mean I _am_ with you,” I replied, the words coming out almost in a growl. “Believe it or not, those aren’t the only two things people can be—with you or without you. There’s a lot more gray area than that, but I guess those are the only two states that matter to you.”

“Are you calling me selfish?”

I actually laughed out loud at that. “Yes, Taylor. I am. Because that’s exactly what you are. And don’t you dare try to tell me you aren’t jealous.”

“Isn’t it enough for me to admit that I want you?” He asked, his voice breaking a little. I almost felt sorry for him, though I couldn’t exactly say why. “What more do you want from me?”

So much more. So much that I knew it was wrong for me to want. And that was why I couldn’t say another word to him. If it pained him this much just to admit that he wanted me physically, how could I ever put the full burden of my feelings for him onto his shoulders?

I couldn’t.

Before Taylor could say anything else, I bolted from the room. Whatever was happening to him, whatever inner turmoil he was feeling over wanting me, I had a feeling that I knew it all too well. But I couldn’t help him deal with it right then. I knew I was just as bad as him for running away from my problems, but I couldn’t stop myself. Something about the entire encounter just didn’t sit right with me. I couldn’t explain it. All I knew was that I did not like it.


	16. Want

Like the coward that I was becoming, I completely ignored Taylor for the rest of the day. When you’ve worked with someone for so long, you learn how to get your business done without letting anything get too personal. It’s not a good thing to do, especially not when you work with family, but it’s a necessary skill. I was usually the worst of the three of us at compartmentalizing like that. Right then, though, it was about survival. I had to keep my big mouth shut around Taylor if I wanted to make it through the tour.

We started making our way up the coast that night, finally leaving California for at least a few days. In typical pacific northwest style, it was raining. Just… lots and lots of rain. Living in Oklahoma ought to numb a person to storms, but it doesn’t. At home, the storms are sudden and violent, but then they’re gone. In Oregon and Washington, though, I was convinced that it was just a constant thing. Like a faucet that never turned all the way off no matter how hard you twisted the handle, there was at least a little drizzle every day.

I hated it.

At the same time, it seemed to suit my mood, and I think that only made me hate it more. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t just be happy that Taylor had finally admitted that he wanted me. Maybe it was the way he admitted it. Of course anything between us had to be clandestine; that wasn’t the problem. There was just an obvious disdain in his voice, an anger with me for making him feel the way he did.

It was an anger that I knew all too well, but somehow, it didn’t make me feel any better to know that Taylor finally felt it, too.

For so long, all I had wanted was for Taylor to understand what he’d made me feel. I wanted my pain to be his pain, too. Now that it was… I just felt worse. What good was it for both of us to suffer? What did I gain from that? Nothing. Not even the selfish sense of satisfaction that I’d been certain I would feel.

I just felt like an asshole.

That feeling was only made worse by our close quarters. Our Portland concert was the very next day, so we didn’t have the luxury of staying in a hotel. Instead, we were all crammed on the bus like very, very awkward and moody sardines. No matter where I went, I couldn’t avoid Taylor. It was bad enough being trapped in my thoughts of him constantly, but being literally unable to even turn around without running into him or someone asking why he and I were acting so weird was my own personal idea of hell.

And yet, knowing that Taylor occupied a very similar sort of hell _still_ didn’t make me feel any better. Dragging him down to my own level had done nothing more than prove how miserable my existence was.

What good was it for both of us to be miserable, though? At least one of us deserved to be happy. I didn’t think that could ever be me, especially since Carrick had so astutely pointed out that I would always love Taylor. So if it wasn’t going to be me, it should have been Taylor. But I had ruined his chances, hadn’t I?

Every way I looked at it, I was just an asshole.

That realization made me want to avoid everyone and everything, but that wasn’t easy to do while we were cooped up on the bus. The best I could do was lose myself in a video game and tune everyone out. I had played every game I’d brought with me a million times, and I couldn’t exactly play online while we were in motion, so it was pretty boring and mind-numbing. But mind-numbing turned out to be exactly what I needed. I didn’t even notice who else was in the room with me, or whether the bus was in motion or not.

Which is why I nearly jumped out of my skin when someone grabbed my shoulder and gave me a hard shake.

Looking up, I wasn’t surprised at all to see that it was Taylor. Who else could make me so angry with just one touch?

“What the fuck do you want?” I asked, scowling at him. How many times lately had I asked him that? It seemed like every single conversation we had began with that question.

Taylor jumped back. “I just wanted to see if you’re hungry. We stopped for a late night snack.”

“No,” I snapped. “I’m not.”

Truthfully, I was starving. I just didn’t want to be around Taylor. I knew he could never turn down a chance for a greasy truck stop meal, so if he was leaving, I was staying put on the bus. I didn’t care how childish I was being or how much I would pay for it soon when my stomach began trying to eat itself.

“Are you sure?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Why the fuck do you care?” I growled. Couldn’t he just leave me alone? How much more obvious did I need to make it that I didn’t want him around?

“Okay, fine,” Taylor replied, holding his hands up in surrender. “You know, I thought you’d be happy now. I gave you what you wanted, didn’t I? What’s your problem now?”

I pulled myself to my feet, but tried my best to hold myself back before I threw a punch. “Is that why you did it, Tay? Why you said it? Just because you think that’s what I want? For you to want me?”

“Isn’t it?” Taylor asked, blinking incredulously.

I shook my head. “It’s really not that fucking simple. And if you’re just saying it because you think it’s what I want to hear… then it doesn’t matter at all.”

Even though I had just said I wasn’t hungry, I had to get away from him. I turned and began to stomp away, but Taylor pulled me back.

“What the fuck do you want _now_?” I growled.

“I didn’t just say it because I thought it was what you wanted to hear,” Taylor replied, his voice cracking a little. “Obviously it wasn’t, anyway.”

“It’s only the tip of the iceberg, Tay, and I don’t know how to make you see that.”

“You’re really not even trying,” he shot back.

I couldn’t even dispute that. I knew he had a point. But if we were this miserable when he only saw the very surface of my issues, how much worse would it be if he saw it all? I couldn’t do that to him. And if I ever doubted that it truly was love and not just lust, I supposed that was all the proof I needed.

“I guess I’m not,” I admitted. “It doesn’t really matter, though. Just… forget it, okay? Just forget you want me.”

Taylor blinked. “Why would… why would you tell me to do that?”

“Do you _want_ to want me?”

He just stared at me. He couldn’t answer, and that said everything. Of course he didn’t. I didn’t want to want him either, but I was in too deep. Maybe there was still time to save him, though. It was a long shot, but it was my only hope. I couldn’t see a happy ending for us no matter what, but the direction we were going in definitely didn’t hold any promise of happiness for either of us.

Finally, Taylor shook his head.

“Yeah,” I replied. “I didn’t think so. And that’s just scratching the surface. I mean, think about it, Tay… a decade of my life…”

I stopped then and shook my head. I couldn’t go on. Even thinking about it was too much. Taylor’s wide-eyed stare told me that maybe, just maybe, he was starting to understand. But I couldn’t drag him all the way down. I couldn’t show him the worst parts of me—if I hadn’t already. He’d seen me pretty much at my worst over the course of this tour.

He’d seen enough.

“Just please get over it,” I mumbled. “Move on. Get over me, whatever.”

Taylor snapped out of his daze and rolled his eyes. “Jesus, Zac. It’s not like I’m in love with you, okay?”

“Good,” I replied, even though I wasn’t sure at all that it _was_ any better that way.

Taylor just gave me a nod and finally let go of my arm so that I could leave. I let out a huge sigh as I walked away, taking my steps as quickly as I could and not even caring if I barreled down anyone in my way. I didn’t, though, which was kind of disappointing. Hitting someone or something might have made me feel a lot better right then.

There was a part of me, a small, angry part of me, that hoped Taylor was lying. If he didn’t love me too, then he couldn’t really understand what I was going through. He couldn’t know all the pain that I knew.

But did I really want him to suffer that much? As much as he infuriated me, I didn’t think that I did.

If he didn’t love me, though, what was the point? What was the point of any of what I’d been through if he didn’t feel the same and never would?

As I walked into the giant truck stop where everyone was still milling around and stretching their legs during this brief break from traveling, I replayed the conversation with Taylor in my mind. He had practically laughed at me when I suggested that he had feelings for me. He couldn’t even fathom this thing between us being more than simply lust.

It felt like a shot to the gut. Everything was going exactly the opposite of how I’d wanted it to go. Worse than that, the things that _were_ going my way were only serving to prove that even what I wanted was no good for me. I just couldn’t win.

When I felt a hand on my arm, I recoiled and spun around, ready to snap. It wasn’t Taylor, though. It was Carrick.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice soft and far sweeter than I deserved.

I pulled away from him and shook my head. “Just forget about it. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay,” Carrick replied, nodding. “Whatever you want.”

I had to stop myself from laughing out loud. Wasn’t that the problem? Getting what I wanted didn’t fix a damn thing. It didn’t _actually_ give me what I wanted, as I had been so certain it would. Everything I wanted seemed to only hurt more when it finally fell into my lap.

I turned away from Carrick and rushed away, unable to face him right then. Given the way things in my life seemed to be going, I would only end up hurting him too and twisting this thing with him into something awful, just as I’d done with Taylor. If it was possible to quantify that sort of thing, Carrick deserved that even less than Taylor did.

Although I wandered around the truck stop for a few minutes, I couldn’t talk myself into purchasing anything. I didn’t trust myself. Everything I wanted just got twisted around and came back to haunt me. I knew a bag of chips and a bottle of soda wouldn’t ruin my life, but I just didn’t trust myself at all. My decision making process was obviously broken. I turned on my heel and walked back out of the store, planning to hole myself up in my bunk and ignore everyone and everything around me for as long as I possibly could.


	17. Selfless

My plan to ignore everyone didn’t last, because how could it? I was on tour. There were constantly people around me, and I was constantly around even more people. We were like sardines, packed into the bus, the venue, wherever we were. There was no escaping a constant crowd of people who I swore were judging me and wondering what my problem was.

None of them could know. I wasn’t telling, and I doubted Taylor and Carrick were telling. If any of them found out… but that was impossible, I constantly reminded myself. No one would possibly jump to those ridiculous but true conclusions.

Still, I was getting paranoid. I might have logically known that my feelings for Taylor would remain a secret, but I couldn’t shake the paranoia that being constantly surrounded and watched brought on.

It rained the rest of the day, letting up only for a brief moment during our walk, and I didn’t even mind at all. I couldn’t be bothered getting annoyed with the bad weather right then. When the concert was over, I rushed through the rain to the bus, ignoring everyone around. All I wanted was to curl up in the back of the bus and smoke a bowl. There would be no autographs signed that night and definitely no after-party, not even the low key pizza and beer sort of party we nearly always had at the venue after a show. I just wanted and needed to be alone.

Before this tour, I really hadn’t thought of myself as that much of a stoner. The last few months, though, had changed that. Taylor’s constant nitpicking of my smoking habit brought it to the forefront of my mind and made me realize just how much I did indulge in that particular substance. Not to mention the fact that everything that had happened between Taylor and I just made me need it even more. It wasn’t an addiction, because despite popular belief pot isn’t physically addictive, but it was a very, very needed coping mechanism.

If that made me a giant pothead, I was finding that I just really didn’t care.

Once I was sure I was alone on the bus, not even bothering to wait for Carrick, I pulled my pipe out of the couch cushions. There was a little baggie of weed and a lighter hiding not too far away, and soon enough I was lighting up. Just the smell and the soft crackling sound of it was enough to relax me a little, but of course nothing compared to that first hit.

Or the next hit. Or the one after that. Or the… well, you get the point.

With each hit, any lingering concerns I had—about being concerned a stoner or whatever else—melted away. Once the weed stopped smoldering, I sat the pipe down and let myself sink down into the couch. I didn’t even care at all if I fell entirely into the floor. Somewhere at the back of my mind was a lingering worry about what certain people might say of they saw me like that, but like everything else I felt, it had been numbed to the point of almost nonexistence. Nothing at all mattered right then. Nothing.

I barely even lifted my head when I heard the bus door open, and I only vaguely registered that someone was walking down the corridor toward me. I just didn’t care who it was or what they wanted. The paranoid part of my brain told me that it just had to be Taylor, coming to annoy me and ruin my buzz, but a brief glance at the approaching figure showed me that it was the other obvious possibility.

Carrick.

“You alright?” He asked, picking up my pipe and staring down at me. He seemed to contemplate something, perhaps lighting it back up, then sat it down and shook his head.

I only managed to give him a nod as I scrambled to pull myself back up to something of a seated position. It was the best I could mange right then. I gave Carrick a little pout and patted the seat next to me. Again, he seemed to be weighing his options, but finally, after what felt like forever, he sat down next to me.

“Any reason why you’re completely blown out of your mind?” He asked.

I shook my head, then shrugged. “Felt like it.”

That seemed like a good enough excuse for him. He just nodded, probably knowing that it was all about Taylor, just like everything else in my life. Carrick picked up the pipe again, gave it a glance, then lit it up and attempted to suck out the last few hits. I’d pretty much sucked it dry, so he didn’t have much luck and soon gave up.

While he was concentrating on the depleted bowl, I struggled to pull myself to my feet to slide the door shut. I slipped the lock into place, too, before collapsing back onto the couch next to Carrick. I knew it was probably exactly the wrong thing to do, but I couldn’t resist curling up closer to him. He didn’t push me away, and I took that as a good sign. I just wanted to get close to someone who wouldn’t hurt me. A voice in the back of my mind told me that I would no doubt hurt him, but right then, I wanted to be a little selfish, if only for a few minutes.

Although I could sense a little hesitance, Carrick didn’t actually shove me away, and that was good enough for me. I tried to be gentle, only barely nudging his mouth open with my tongue rather than greedily forcing it down his throat. Though he paused for a second, he was soon kissing me back and even letting me ease him backward on the couch. My hand trailed under his shirt and skimmed up and down his chest, and he didn’t resist that, either.

I considered my options as I trailed kisses down his neck, and I decided I could still be a little bit selfless. I could give to Carrick rather than just take from him.

“Zac…” Carrick half moaned, half whined as I eased him back further and nipped at his neck.

I pulled back slightly, just to be sure he wasn’t trying to tell me no, but it certainly didn’t look that way. His eyes were only half-open but full of lust, and that was all the reassurance that I needed. I slithered down his chest until I was kneeling between his legs in the floor. The second I reached for his waistband, his hips jutted up off the couch toward me, and I couldn’t help smiling as I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants.

I smiled again when I saw that Carrick wasn’t wearing any underwear. He was already half hard, and a few quick strokes from me brought him to his full length. I couldn’t wait much longer, though. I wanted him in my mouth.

Carrick groaned loudly as I did just that, sucking him into my mouth all at once. I didn’t care at all how greedy and slutty I might have looked. It wasn’t like Carrick hadn’t already seen me at my worst, anyway. He knew me, inside and out. He knew how horrible I was, and he never once judged me for that. This was only a tiny, physical token of my appreciation for that.

I kept my eyes on Carrick’s as I bobbed up and down slowly but deliberately. I knew we probably didn’t have a lot of time for this, but I couldn’t resist showing off a little and making sure he really enjoyed it. He would only be on this tour for a few more days—a fact I really didn’t like to think about—and I wanted to be sure I made these last moments with him really something to remember. I wanted him to understand how much he meant to me, even if we wouldn’t ever be together. As he gently ran his hands through my hair, I was fairly certain he got the message.

The more I sucked, the more frenzied Carrick became. His hips bucked up toward my mouth, and eventually I stopped fighting it and just let him fuck my mouth. If I looked shameless, who cared? It was only me and Carrick who would know, and as I’d already decided, he had definitely seen the worst of me that there was to see. Letting him use me a little was nothing. Besides, I kind of liked it. I let out a low moan of my own as his pace increased.

I dug my fingernails into Carrick’s hips, but not to slow him down. I just liked the way it felt and I knew he did, too. Seconds later, he let out a moan that I knew was a warning. It didn’t really matter; he knew I was going to swallow, and seconds after that, I did. I stared up into his eyes as I licked him clean, savoring the way he tasted. He’d always joked that vegetarians tasted better, but I had to agree. I let out a shameless moan as I let my tongue dart out to lick the last few drops from my lips.

Carrick tucked himself back into his pants as I slithered back onto the couch and up his body. I briefly remembered that I’d locked the door and that I should probably unlock it before anyone came looking for us, but I found that I really didn’t care, nor did I have the energy to move any further.

“What was that all about?” Carrick asked with a nervous chuckle.

I just shrugged and curled up against him, burying my face in his chest. “Just felt like it.”

“That’s not always a great reason to do things,” he replied, his voice turning a little more serious.

“I know,” I said with a sigh. “Believe me, I know.”

Carrick nudged my chin upward. When I met his eyes, I saw that he was smiling. “I didn’t say it wasn’t a good reason right then. Just that it isn’t always.”

I let out another sigh, but this one was a sigh of relief. Carrick’s smile grew and he pulled me in for a quick kiss.

“I know I’m probably just creating more problems for you, but I’m glad I came on this tour.”

I frowned. “You’re not. I’m pretty sure all my problems are of my own making.”

“You know that means the solution should be yours, too, right?” Carrick asked, running a hand through my hair.

“Yeah,” I replied with a nod. “I just keep making things worse, though.”

“Not worse, necessarily. You’re just finding lots of things that _aren’t_ the solution,” he replied with a smirk.

I let out a nervous laugh, just because I had no clue what else to do. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure that giving you head isn’t fixing anything.”

“Is that gonna stop you from doing it?” Carrick asked, that smirk still stuck on his face.

“Probably not,” I replied with a smirk of my own.

As I settled in against his chest again, I could hear the sound of other people climbing onto the bus, but I really didn’t care. I was going to milk this time alone with Carrick for all that I could and not move an inch until I absolutely had to. That wasn’t solving any of my problems either, but right then, I didn’t care.

I could be selfless later. Right then, being just a little bit selfish sounded fine with me.


	18. Drag

We headed straight on to Seattle the next day, and I was convinced that the rain followed us. The entire drive there, I stared out the bus window and watched it pour down. These days, it seemed to suit my moods so well that I almost enjoyed it in a strange way. I wasn’t a huge fan of walking in it, but I did get a weird satisfaction out of splashing in the puddles with each heavy footstep.

It didn’t seem to amuse the fans very much, but it made Carrick giggle, and that was good enough for me.

I was finding that the only thing I could do to stay sane was to take pleasure in whatever tiny little things I could find. It wasn’t hedonistic, really. There were just so few things bringing me true happiness right then that I had to hold onto even the tiniest little glimmers of joy, however fleeting they might be. And they were usually very, very fleeting.

Or maybe I was just learning to enjoy being miserable.

Hadn’t that been truly how I’d spent the last decade of my life? Misery was never too far away, even when I was at my happiest. All it took was one touch or even just the wrong sort of glance from Taylor to bring me crashing down. I had thought that bringing him down to my level, making him feel what I felt, would bring me some happiness. It didn’t. So I was learning to enjoy being miserable, I supposed. Somehow, it made a strange, twisted sort of sense, but probably to no one other than me.

I wondered if Carrick would understand, if I tried to explain it to him. He was far smarter than me, but he was also far more of an optimist. I could recall very few times when he’d ever seemed unhappy. Maybe he just hid it well, but I doubted it. I was quite certain that he was always able to find real happiness, not some weird pleasure in pain like I was forcing myself to enjoy. He might understand, on a purely academic level, but he would still tell me I was an idiot.

He wouldn’t have been wrong.

I was feeling so strange and contrary that during the small amount of free time we had before we went onstage, I decided to go stand outside in the rain. It would have made a bit more sense if I’d at least been huddled under the building’s overhanging roof trying to smoke a cigarette, or even a joint since we were on the west coast. But no, I was standing right out in the rain, not caring that I was soaking wet.

I was seconds away from actually skipping around and splashing in the puddles even more than I had earlier when I felt eyes on me. Spend long enough in this business and you definitely develop a sixth sense for when you’re being watched. I wasn’t surprised to find that the eyes belonged to Taylor. Unlike myself, he was huddled up and hunched over the cigarette that he was struggling to light thanks to the rain.

“Are you actually enjoying this weather?” He asked, raising an eyebrow incredulously. He took a long drag off his finally lit cigarette before waiting for me to answer.

The only answer I had for him was a shrug. The cold was starting to seep into my bones, though, so I decided it was time to stop dancing in the rain. Against my better judgment, I walked over to where Taylor was standing and stood just close enough to feel his body heat. I didn’t want to touch him, but I did want to warm up, and he was definitely still warm from being inside and also having the foresight to wear a jacket, unlike me.

“I don’t know how people can stand to live with this shit weather all the time,” Taylor grumbled, his cigarette dangling perilously from his lips. Just watching his lips made me shiver even more than the cold did.

“We live in Tornado Alley,” I pointed out. “It’s all just a matter of perspective.”

Somehow, that ended up a lot more profound than I intended. The sideways glance Taylor gave me suggested that he noticed that too, but chose not to comment on it. Maybe he just didn’t know what to say.

I didn’t know what else to say, either, so I just stood there shivering and watched Taylor take long, greedy draws on his cigarette. It was hypocritical of me to hate cigarettes, I supposed, when I smoked a pretty large amount of pot. And I did hate them, except when Taylor was the person smoking. Something about the curve of his lips, the way his cheeks hollowed even more… like everything else about him, it just seemed perfect to me.

I could have stood there and watched him forever, but it didn’t take long for him to seem annoyed with me. He huffed out a loud of smoke into my face and glared.

“What?” Taylor asked. “Have I got something on my face?”

I shook my head. “No… no, you’re fine. Sorry.”

“Then why are you staring at me? Just for the hell of it?” He asked, tilting his head to the side a little like that was funny to him.

“Something like that,” I mumbled, not meeting Taylor’s amused stare. “You still don’t get it, do you?”

He sighed. “I’m starting to. I don’t understand it, but…”

“It’s what I feel, and even I don’t understand it.”

Taylor stared at me long and hard as he took another drag off his cigarette, obviously turning my words over in his head and trying to decide whether or not he believed them. After a long moment, he exhaled the cloud of smoke right into my face and nodded.

“Look,” I said, once I managed to stop coughing. “I’m just gonna go back inside and get dried off, alright? Just… whatever. Enjoy your smoke.”

Taylor nodded again, and for a moment I thought he was going to let me leave. When I turned, though, he pulled me back and forced me to spin around. When I did, I saw that he’d thrown his cigarette down, a tiny trail of smoke from it still spilling from his beautiful mouth. He pulled me to him and crushed those lips to mine, and I wasn’t at all surprised that they tasted like smoke, too.

I knew this was far too public to be safe, but I found that I just didn’t care. Even with the cigarette taste lingering on his lips and in his mouth, kissing Taylor was still just about my favorite thing in the world. There was something desperate and needy about the way he kissed me right then, grabbing fistfuls of my soaking wet t-shirt and backing me up against the wall so he could kiss me even harder.

I liked it. I liked it a lot.

It took every bit of willpower I had to convince myself not to drop down to my knees right then and there and give Taylor the best head of his life. It was really just the thought that we could be discovered any second that kept me from doing it. At the same time, that realization only made it more thrilling just to kiss him.

Ever since this thing between the two of us started, we had made some of the stupidest decisions possible. Most of them had been my fault—giving him head in the bus shower, begging him to fuck me in the venue’s bathroom and repeatedly bursting into the hotel room he shared with his boyfriend. This was all Taylor, though. Every encounter we’d had during this leg of the tour had been initiated by him, and I didn’t know what to make of that. When his tongue wasn’t down my throat, maybe I could think straight enough to make sense of this turn of events, this role reversal.

Right then, though, all I could do was pull him in closer to me and kiss him back with the same urgency with which he was kissing me. I ran my hand up inside his jacket and felt his heartbeat through his shirt. It sounded like it might pound right out of his chest and I had a feeling mine did, too. I was pretty sure, in fact, that our hearts were beating perfectly in sync. Taylor could tell me he didn’t love me as many times as he wanted, but right then, I didn’t believe it at all.

He could say that he just lusted after me, and maybe that was what he truly believed. But Taylor was never at a loss for people to direct his lust toward. He could satisfy that particular need with anyone; he didn’t _need_ me. Unless he truly needed me, in a way that was far more than just lust… in a way that was much closer to the way I wanted him.

It was only a theory, but it was a theory that I felt quite confident with. So confident, in fact, that I let myself be a bit more bold with Taylor. With his shirt in my hand, I held him close and let my lips trail down his neck, just barely nipping at the flesh there. I wanted to bite down, to leave a mark that would remind Taylor of me, but I knew he would have to answer for it if anyone noticed. Still, I couldn’t resist nipping and sucking at his soft flesh, drawing a slight moan from his mouth.

I could tell myself that I needed to be selfless and do what was best for Taylor, but the second he moaned like that, all thoughts of selflessness fled from my mind. There was no feeling, no better drug in the world than knowing I was getting to Taylor.

The loud clang of the venue’s door opening broke the strange spell that had come over us. We shoved each other apart simultaneously and Taylor quickly began fumbling through his pockets for another cigarette. Thank god this venue had a door in need of maintenance, I thought, as I turned to see who had nearly discovered us.

It was only Carrick. Of all possibilities, that was definitely the best one, although the hint of terror in Taylor’s eyes said that he didn’t quite realize that.

“You guys alright out here?” He asked, eying me curiously. “Not too much longer until you’ve got to go on. Ike sent me to look for you for the huddle.”

Although Taylor still hadn’t quite taken to Carrick’s presence on the tour, everyone else had rather readily adjusted to it, treating him practically like another crew member. I let out a sigh of relief that he seemed to only be acting in that capacity right then, and wasn’t especially curious about why Taylor and I were hiding behind the venue. I didn’t doubt that he was curious, though, but for the moment he was keeping that curiosity to himself.

“Well, just hurry up, I guess,” Carrick said, giving us both a quick glance from head to toe.

“We’ll be in soon,” I replied a little more curtly than I meant to. Taylor just added a quick nod of his own, which really didn’t make him look any less guilty.

With a nod of his own, Carrick turned and walked back into the building. The door slammed decisively behind him and Taylor let out a huge sigh.

“Do you think he saw anything?” Taylor asked.

I just shrugged. I didn’t think it would ease his worries any if I told him that Carrick already knew about us.

“I hope he didn’t,” Taylor said. “The last thing we need is someone else finding out.”

I kept my mouth firmly shut. Taylor lit another cigarette, no doubt needing it to calm his nerves. I watched Taylor’s cheeks hollow as he sucked on his cigarette, but this time, I was certain that my shivers were only because of the cold that had seeped all the way through to my bones. Whatever had passed between us was gone, and Taylor was back to the coldness he’d shown me for weeks. I thought something had changed, but I was wrong. The spell really was broken.

“You better hurry up and finish that cigarette,” I said. It was an empty, meaningless sentence, not even half the threat it sounded like, but I didn’t know what else to say to fill the silence.

Taylor nodded and leaned his head back to exhale a long, thin cloud of smoke. “I’m almost done.”

I just nodded, and tried to pry my eyes away from him. Watching him didn’t make me feel any better. I wanted to run to Carrick, but I knew it would only make me feel even worse to fall into his arms after he’d practically witnessed me with Taylor. I couldn’t just keep bouncing back and forth between the two of them like a ping pong ball. It wasn’t doing any of us, least of all me, any good.

“Look,” Taylor said, and I knew no good sentences ever began with that word. “What just happened… shouldn’t have.”

“You’re a broken record, Tay.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“Doesn’t mean we’re going to really stop,” I replied. “We haven’t yet, have we? Yet how many times have we had this exact conversation?”

He glared. “Apparently, not enough.”

“Or maybe it doesn’t matter how many times you state the obvious. Maybe we’re never going to stop, Tay.”

“I’ve got to keep trying, okay?” He said, and the desperation in his voice made me want to kiss him again.

But I didn’t.

It had taken me years to come to terms with how I felt, and there were still days when it ate me up inside and made me hate everyone and everything. How could I expect Taylor to deal with it so quickly? He needed time, and as much as it pained me to do it, I had to give it to him. He might have thought the time would help him to forget what he felt for me, but I knew it would only make those feelings grow and become something he just accepted. I didn’t think he would believe me if I told him that, though.

I could give him time, though. I wasn’t sure how much, but I could try. Without another word, just a quick nod, I turned and walked into the building. This was going to hurt, but I just had to be patient. I was certain now that it was truly just a matter of time.


	19. Break

The new confidence I’d found with regards to Taylor didn’t really translate into the rest of my life. I supposed the fact that Carrick had all but walked in on us, as it were, played a big role in that. Even though he _knew_ and hadn’t even seen anything that horrible, I found that I couldn’t face Carrick at all afterward. Once I was back inside the venue, I brushed past him quickly, treating him like a complete stranger.

I hated myself for it, but like so many other things I’d done, I just couldn’t stop.

I decided that it was some sort of strange delayed reaction. This was the sort of shame I should have felt after Taylor’s boyfriend walked in on us. While I’d briefly felt a sense of compassion for Taylor when I realized I’d ruined his relationship, I really didn’t regret any of my actions. I’d shown Taylor _and_ Seamus that their relationship was doomed. I’d proven that Taylor wanted me. I’d accomplished my goal. What did I have to be ashamed of?

Everything.

I was on the stupidest emotional rollercoaster ever. Just when I was starting to think that everything I’d done was worth it, one glance from Carrick reminded me of all the awful things I’d done to get there. What did it matter that Taylor wanted me if I only made him miserable? I’d ruined his chances with someone he could actually be with, publicly, just to prove that I wasn’t alone in my feelings for him. How was that okay?

Even if Taylor did finally admit his feelings for me, I wasn’t entirely convinced it would make me happy. It seemed I would always find some reason to hate myself.

Then again, wasn’t being in love with my own brother reason enough to constantly beat myself up?

I don’t know how I made it through the concert that night. It was all a giant blur, which likely meant that my performance was pretty shitty. No one complained to me about it, but I thought I could still see judgment in their eyes. Maybe that was just my imagination, though, seeing the judgment that I knew should have been there for a dozen other reasons.

I definitely didn’t have it in me to spend any time chatting up fans that night, so as soon as I’d gotten off stage and taken a shower, I headed straight for the bus. I knew we had a long drive and a few very long days ahead of us, and I didn’t even have the energy to _breathe_ right then. Even smoking a bowl seemed out of the question. I’m sure that would have shocked anyone, had I vocalized those thoughts.

Within minutes of collapsing in my bunk, I was out. I didn’t even waste any time taking my clothes off. It was a well known fact that I could sleep anywhere, at any time and under any conditions. It was a handy quality to have, especially when, such as right then, I wanted nothing more than to just turn the world off for a while and escape from it. Somewhere, in the very back of my mind, I was aware of the others climbing onto the bus and Carrick coming to check on me, but even that couldn’t rouse me. Even in sleep, I was stubborn as hell.

I remained hidden in my bunk for the rest of the night, and only woke up the next morning when my hunger got the best of me. Even then, I had no desire to leave the safety of my little cocoon, but my stomach was growling loudly enough that I was pretty sure everyone else on the bus could hear it. In the end, hunger won and I pulled myself out of the bunk and back into the land of the living.

By the time I worked up the nerve to leave my bunk, most of the others were already off the bus. That was fine by me. I didn’t even have the energy or will to change clothes. I didn’t think I smelled _that_ bad, though, but it wouldn’t have mattered if I did. The worse I smelled, then hopefully the larger radius everyone else would keep from me. I could only hope.

Naturally, the first person I saw on the bus was Carrick. He just leaned against the wall and stared me down as I stumbled back into my shoes and tried my best to ignore him. I didn’t really succeed.

“Surprised to see you joining us,” he said.

I shrugged and busied myself with checking my pockets for my cell phone and wallet. Once I was certain they were both in place, I really had no other good excuse to ignore him. With a sigh, I replied, “Yeah, I guess. I’m hungry.”

“That’s as good a reason as any to leave the bus, I suppose.”

“The only one I’ve got,” I replied.

Carrick took a few steps toward me and brushed his hand through my hair. I could only imagine how bad it looked given that I had just woken up and had a bad habit of never brushing it when it was this short. He stared into my eyes like he was looking for something and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what or if he actually found it. After a moment he sighed and said, “You know, I wish I didn’t have to leave tomorrow.”

Instinctively, I started to lean toward him, but I didn’t want to look that pathetic. Instead, I managed to stop myself short so that I ended up just swaying a little. That was better, right? I could always blame that on having just woken up approximately five minutes before what was turning into a very serious conversation.

“Carrick,” I huffed. “I think I can survive without you.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I mean. I know you can. You’re stronger than you think you are. I guess I just feel protective of you.”

I nodded, not really sure what else to say to that. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure that I _could_ survive without him, but I also wasn’t sure that having him around was helping, either. It was a lose-lose situation, really. Stuck between a rock and a hard place. Being with Carrick, in whatever way that I was, didn’t make what I felt for Taylor go away, and trying to make things work with Taylor seemed to only send me running back to Carrick. Maybe it was good that he was leaving. It meant I didn’t have to choose between the two of them—the choice was already made for me.

Not that there was ever any doubt who I would choose if it came down to it.

“Look, why don’t you go try to talk to Taylor? Pretty sure he’s just pouting into his coffee right now.”

I sighed. I wanted to refuse, but if Carrick thought it was a good idea…

“Come on,” he said, giving me a small smile. “I think you guys need to talk. I don’t know what I saw last night, but…”

I rolled my eyes. “It wasn’t as good as it looked. I mean, it was _good_ , but I don’t know. I don’t know what it meant, and I think Taylor has even less of a clue than I do.”

“Then go give him a clue,” Carrick said.

I rolled my eyes again, but something in Carrick’s words gave me the push I needed to leave the bus. He had the confidence I had found myself lacking. I didn’t know why that confidence had faded so quickly from me after kissing Taylor again, but I desperately wanted it back. If Carrick thought there was a chance that things being me and Taylor could be fixed, then I trusted his judgment.

Just as Carrick had said, Taylor was sitting inside the truck stop’s diner, clutching his coffee like it was a life preserver or something. He did look sad, and I hated knowing that I was most likely the cause of that. I had no clue how to stop making him sad. It seemed to be the only thing I was good at lately, and it never brought me the happiness I expected.

The obvious answer, I supposed, would be to stop doing what I had been doing. I didn’t think that was really an option, though. How could we possibly go back to just being brothers? The truth, or at least a big chunk of it, was out there, hovering between us. There would always be an elephant in the room. There was no escaping it. Going back to the way things had been wasn’t an option.

I just had to find some way of living that wasn’t what I was currently doing. I had to make Taylor _happy_. Even if it killed me, and there was a strong possibility that it would.

“Is this seat taken?” I asked, and I thought Taylor was going to jump right out of his skin.

Once he settled down and realized it was only me—I was surprised that didn’t make his reaction worse—he just gave me a tiny shake of his head and pulled his coffee closer to his body like a shield.

“Good,” I replied, sliding into the booth across from his.

I wasn’t really sure what to do then. I hadn’t planned that far ahead. Getting Taylor to actually acknowledge my presence was a pretty big win in and of itself, though. Now that I was here, I really didn’t know what to talk about. I still feared that just one wrong word would send Taylor running. Instead of talking, I just picked at a napkin and tried not to stare too much at Taylor.

“Did you want something?” Taylor asked, his eyes narrowing.

I shrugged. “To talk, I guess.”

“You’re not talking, though,” he replied.

Even though there was venom in his words, I could see his hand shaking in its grip on the coffee cup. I didn’t know why Taylor even bothered putting up a front around me, but I had no doubt that he was. Knowing that was the only thing that kept me from just getting up and walking away. I wanted nothing more than to break down his walls and get something _real_ from him.

“Yeah, well…” I mumbled. “You know, I just wish we could be okay. That’s all.”

It was a big risk, but I had to hope that honesty was the best approach. I held my breath as I waited for Taylor to respond.

“Okay?” Taylor asked, raising an eyebrow. “We’re never going to be okay, Zac. We had _sex_.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m aware, Taylor. I was there, you know.”

Taylor’s fist tightened around his coffee up. “Yeah, well. I don’t know how you can think we can do that…. that kind of thing, and then just go back to being normal.”

“We’re never going to be normal,” I nearly growled. “I didn’t say that. I just want us to be okay. I want us to not _hate_ each other.”

“I don’t _hate_ you.”

I stared blankly at Taylor, trying to digest and understand his words. It didn’t seem to make sense at first, but then it hit me.

He didn’t hate _me_. He hated himself.

Of course. I had spent so long hating him for doing this to me, for being part of the reason— maybe even the cause—that I realized I was gay. Why did I think that he was okay with having done that to me? My brother was an idiot, but he wasn’t heartless. He had to know how much he’d hurt me, and it hurt him, too. Then I had to come along and practically force him into this… this thing, this affair, with me. I had assumed he hated me for it, but no. He hated himself for wanting it.

For wanting me.

All along, our feelings had been mirror images, and neither of us had realized it at all.

I wondered if he could see it now, as we sat together in the diner’s booth. I wanted to reach my hand across the table and grasp his, but I worried what he would think. It was still too soon to push him too far, I was sure. We were making progress, but I still had to be patient.


	20. Flash

I didn’t want the concert in Vancouver to ever end. That isn’t to say that it was some spectacular, amazing concert. In fact, it really wasn’t any better or worse than any other show we’d played that tour. It was, however, the last show for which Carrick would be on the tour. All too early the next morning, before it was really even early enough to _call_ it morning, we would be on a plane back to California. Because of a charity event Taylor had decided we simply had to do, we were forced to abandoned the bus and jet back to the states, then meet up with the bus later for the next show.

It was an absolutely ridiculous schedule. Even a time machine couldn’t have made it any less absurd. Of course, if I’d had a time machine, I would have just replayed these last few days over and over and never let Carrick actually leave.

I think we can all agree that the world is a better place thanks to my lack of a time machine.

No matter how much I wanted to delay it, I couldn’t. The early, early morning came and the bus deposited us all at the airport. Carrick had somehow managed to get a last minute ticket back on the same plane, so he wasn’t stuck taking the slow ride home on the bus. I was, at least, grateful for that, because it meant I had a few hours left with him. We hadn’t discussed whether or not he was going to the charity walk with us, but I had assumed he wouldn’t. While he and I were fine, there was still an obvious tension between him and Taylor. There was no point to making it worse by hanging around longer, and I couldn’t see any way to make it better.

Of course, it was just my luck that I ended up sandwiched between the two of them during the flight.

I almost had to laugh when I realized how our seats were arranged. I figured that would have gotten me more than a few strange looks by those who didn’t know my situation. Carrick had little more than an apologetic look for me, and Taylor was too busy burying his head in his book to pay attention to me at all. He always claimed that reading on the plane helped him get through takeoff, but I was quite sure that right then, he was just using it to ignore me.

One step forward, two steps back.

For every little bit of progress I thought we’d made, Taylor just found another reason to push me away. Sometimes he didn’t even seem to have a reason at all.

When all was said and done, it really wasn’t a very long flight, and I spent most of it asleep. I figured that was the easiest way to handle it, and to my relief, I didn’t have any nightmares. That would have been just my luck, but for once, things seemed to be going relatively smoothly. When we landed, Taylor looked up from his book for what I’m sure was the first time in the entire flight.

The flight got in early enough that we all had a few hours on our own before the walk. There was no concert, just the walk and maybe an a capella song or two, so the day wasn’t really that busy. I almost felt like I could breathe, except for that little fact that Carrick was leaving. The decision to spend my free time with him was an easy one to make, and he didn’t seem to mind when I climbed into the cab right behind him without even asking if I could come back to his house.

“Can I just sleep?” I asked, as soon as we were inside the door. “Like… for the rest of the day?”

Carrick chuckled. “You can get a few hours in, but I will have to kick you out at some point, I’m afraid.”

“Whatever, they can walk without me,” I replied, making my way down the hallway that I knew well. I’d passed out in Carrick’s bed many times before when we were out here for concerts, promo or whatever. I knew his house nearly as well as I knew my apartment.

I knew his bed pretty well, too, despite the fact that we had never defined our relationship as anything more than friendship.

As I fell face first into his bed, I couldn’t help wondering if there was any way for that relationship status to change. Ultimately, I decided that Carrick was right. This fucked up thing between me and Taylor would always get in the way of any other relationship I might have tried to have. Maybe if I’d had the guts to ask Carrick out years ago…

But none of that mattered now. What’s done is done.

I fell asleep far too easily in his bed. I didn’t even remember Carrick crawling in next to me, but he was right there when I woke up. That made me want to leave his bed even less, but I knew I had to. Judging by the time on my cell phone, I had precious few minutes left before the phone calls would start coming in, demanding to know where I was and why I was late for our appearance. I had no choice but to leave.

Some stupid part of my brain decided that it would be easier to leave without saying goodbye. I slithered out of Carrick’s grasp and crawled down the bed, climbing off the foot of it just to avoid disturbing Carrick. I tiptoed out of the room, and I made it all the way to the porch before I heard him calling out to me.

“Zac!” He called out from somewhere within the house. A second later the door creaked open behind me, and I knew I was caught. “Are you leaving?”

“Yeah…” I replied, drawing the word out pathetically as I spun around to face him. “Sorry…”

Carrick eyed me for a second, then shrugged. “It’s alright.. just wanted to say goodbye before you were gone, that’s all.”

Well, that only made me feel worse. I stuffed my hands into my pockets and stared at the worn floorboards of the porch as Carrick stepped in closer to me. Once he was right in front of me, he nudged my chin upward and forced me to look him in the eyes.

“You’re gonna be alright, you know,” he said. “You can get through the tour without me, I promise.”

“I’d prefer if I didn’t have to try.”

Carrick sighed. “Yeah… but we both know I was just complicating things, anyway. Go fix things with Taylor. You and me… we’ll be fine no matter what.”

“I hope you’re right,” I mumbled.

“I know I’m right,” he said with a smile. “Whatever we are… I’m happy. I just want _you_ to be happy, and I’ve done about all I can to help with that.”

I nodded. “Okay… I’ll come visit after the tour?”

“You better,” he replied.

I chuckled. I wanted to say something else, but I didn’t know what. Goodbyes were not my favorite thing. Before I could get any more words out, Carrick leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. It wasn’t a passionate kiss by any means, but that was okay. It was still a better goodbye than anything else I could have imagined. There might have been a lot left unsaid, but that was okay. It still felt like a good conclusion to our week together, and when he pulled away, I gave him a smile and turned to walk down his porch.

That was it. Just one cab ride stood between me and Taylor.

Once I was there, I was thrown into a whirlwind of activity that made it easy enough to forget about Taylor, or at least temporarily ignore him. There was too much to do, too many people around, too much going on period. This was a bigger event than just one of our walks, and it only took a matter of seconds for me to lose myself in the crowd.

It was far too easy to be swept up in it all, and I wished I could just stay that way.

No one there knew my troubles. No one cared. I wasn’t even sure that many of them, except for the handful sporting our merch, even knew who I was. I didn’t even have to hear Taylor’s typical speech. For a brief moment, I felt almost invisible and I enjoyed it more than I ever thought I would.

Of course, it ended far too soon.

We wrapped up the entire event with a short a capella performance, and then we were dismissed to mingle with the fans who had shown up. That, too, made it easy to avoid Taylor. A swarm of fans surrounded each of us, and I could very nearly forget that Taylor was even there once he was out of my sight.

Too soon, the crowd of fans began to get their fill of us and fade away. Plenty of others still mingled around, making small talk and just hanging out, but none of them held my attention. As much as I felt better after a small amount of Taylor-free time, I really couldn’t handle that much of it. There was just this magnetic pull about him, constantly bringing me back into his orbit.

That is, if I could find him, and right then, I couldn’t.

I looked all around, both inside and outside of the theater, but Taylor seemed to have vanished into thin air. No one I asked had seen him. One girl _thought_ she’d seen Taylor walk away with some guy. That was never a good sign, and as soon as the words left her mouth—some tall guy with dark hair—I felt sick to my stomach.

Hadn’t we just been through this Alex bullshit? Did it _really_ have to happen again?

On a hunch, I headed around to the alley behind the building. Taylor seemed to have a habit of making out with men back there and thinking it was somehow private enough for that sort of thing. At least, he’d done it with me and I was pretty sure I’d seen him all cozied up with Seamus behind a venue or two. And _that_ was a mental image I wished I hadn’t dredged up, but once it was there, it was stuck.

It took me a few seconds to realize I wasn’t just projecting when I found him.

But no. That really was Seamus, and that really was Taylor pressed up against him, sandwiched between him and the building’s wall.

Neither of them saw me and I wasn’t sure whether to be thankful for that or not. It meant I could have made an easy escape and no one would have even known I was there. It would have been oh so simple.

But I wasn’t the only extra person there.

The all too familiar click of a camera broke the trance I seemed to have fallen into. A giggle followed it, and it only took me a moment to trace the source. Taylor and Seamus saw them at the same time I did, but in a flash—literally—they were gone.


	21. Gossip

It was one of those moments when time seemed to stop. It reminded me all too much of the night that Seamus walked in on me and Taylor. But this was different. This time, they were the ones who were discovered.

Taylor kept backing away, as thought he could just vanish into the wall behind him. The look on his face was such a mixture of panic and hurt that I wanted to rush to his side and pull him into my arms. Shay wasn’t comforting him. Shay wasn’t doing anything but staring at him blankly and being totally useless when Taylor obviously needed someone.

“I… I should probably…” Seamus stuttered out, shaking his head slightly. “Just… I should just go.”

Taylor looked like he wanted to argue with that, but he didn’t. He just stared off into space and let Seamus walk away. I wanted to punch him—Seamus, not Taylor. He could see that Taylor needed him, and he was just leaving. Realistically, I knew things were more complicated than just that, but it was so easy to direct my anger at him right then. I should have been angry at the nosy person—a fan, I assumed—snooping around and taking pictures of what should have been a private moment. And I was, but right then, I was so much angrier at Shay for walking out on Taylor yet again.

I glanced around to be sure that the fans were really gone, because I didn’t feel like giving them any more gossip fodder, and took a few steps toward Taylor. I don’t think he even realized I was there until I was right in front of him. I stopped once I was arms length away from him, the look of fear on his face making me freeze on the spot.

Of course. Why would I have assumed he would want _me_ to comfort him?

Ever one to do the stupidest possible thing, I reached out for Taylor’s arm anyway. He jerked away from me, and I was more offended than I knew I had any right to be. Still, I could see the sadness in Taylor’s eyes and it only made me want to hug him even more. It was a vicious cycle that I didn’t know how to break out of. No matter how much he pulled away from me, I could still see the hurt beneath the surface, and I wanted to be the one to fix it.

Someday, he would let me. He had to.

“Can you just… not?” Taylor said, still looking like he wished he could become one with the brick wall behind him.

“Not what?” I asked. “Not care about you? No, Taylor, actually I can’t. I’ve tried. For years.”

So much for being patient. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t watch him beat himself up and push me away all at the same time, and then act like _I_ was the problem. We were both the problem, and we could both be the solution, if he would only just open his eyes and see it.

Taylor shook his head. “That’s not what I meant. You just… you just don’t want me to be with Shay. You’re just selfish, Zac.”

“Selfish?” I repeated. “I’m not the one who just ran away and left you here. I’m the one trying to actually be here for you, but you just won’t let me. I can see how you would confuse that for selfishness, though. Makes perfect sense.”

“You just think if you’re nice to me, I’ll fuck you again. That’s all,” Taylor said, but his eyes betrayed his words. I could see that he didn’t really believe it.

But how could I get him to admit that he didn’t believe it? That was a question I didn’t have the answer to.

I took a few steps away from him and shook my head. “You know what? Just keep telling yourself that. That’s fine. But someday you’re going to see the truth.”

Taylor didn’t respond. He just stared off into the distance, totally ignoring me. Fine. If he wanted to be that way, it was just fine. Once he actually stopped to think about what had happened, he would realize that I was the only person who was really there for him. Alex got him fucked up, and Seamus just kissed him and ran. But me? I would stick around forever if he would let me. Once he pulled his head out of his ass and stopped feeling sorry for himself, I was positive he would see that.

But right then? Right then I’d had enough of his shit. I could only lead him through the forest so many times and not yell at him for whining about the trees.

“I’m just gonna go, then,” I said, pausing for just a second in case Taylor wanted to stop me. He didn’t even look my way. “We’ve got to leave soon, I guess. So… whatever. I’m just done dealing with you right now, but at least I tried.”

When he still made no move to stop me, I knew it was really time to stop talking about leaving and just do it. I turned and walked back into the theater, which was all but deserted by that point. I was immediately assaulted with questions about Taylor’s absence and I did my best to assure everyone that he was on his way. It was a total lie, because I really had no clue, and at that moment, I really didn’t care. He could miss the flight to Spokane for all I cared.

He didn’t, of course, and I couldn’t help feeling like he stuck around just to spite me.

I knew that was a stupid reaction. It was like no matter what Taylor did, it just didn’t make me happy. If I wanted him around, then having him near me was torture. If I didn’t want him around, I spent every minute without him thinking about him. Even when he did exactly what I claimed to want, it didn’t make me happy. What if he never did, no matter what? What if I was just destined to be tortured by my feelings for him forever?

Those were thoughts I really didn’t need, but I couldn’t seem to rid myself of them.

Once Taylor finally rejoined the rest of us, we were huddled off to the airport, with little time to even eat dinner before our flight to Washington. It was just another reason for me to hate Taylor for deciding this charity walk was a good idea. The foremost reason, of course, being that little run-in with Seamus.

During the entire plane ride, which I thankfully did not have to spend sitting next to Taylor, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I had so many questions that I knew Taylor would just blow off if I even tried to ask him. Why was Seamus there? Did Taylor invite him or did he show up on his own? Were they getting back together? Did Taylor _want_ to get back together with him?

But the most important question was… would Taylor really answer me if I tried to ask any of that? And that was a question I could answer for myself: no.

The flight was short, at least compared to so many others we’ve taken over the years, so I didn’t have long to contemplate all the possibilities and beat myself up for not having somehow prevented such a potential disaster from happening. With all my other worries, I’d nearly forgotten about the girl with the camera phone. How much had she seen? How many pictures had she taken? What would she do with them?

Those were questions I didn’t have any answers for, but the only ones I could imagine were bad—very bad.

I was certain those sort of questions were eating away at Taylor, too, but I didn’t dare talk to him about it all. He’d proven that he didn’t want my comfort right then. Maybe at some point he would, but I was finding that I really didn’t have the patience to wait for that time to come.

Our concert wasn’t until the next night, so we had the entire evening to relax. Once everyone was off the plane and had their luggage, we were stuffed into cabs and sent to the hotel. A funny thing happens whenever we get off a plane. Instantly, the cell phones and iPads are pulled back out. I’m not immune to the need to be plugged in, either, but it always amuses me to watch us all become one with our devices the very second we’re allowed to again.

Isaac was the worst of us, if you asked me. Taylor was bad, but Isaac had this obsessive need to constantly “network,” as he called it. The rest of us just call it sucking up. It would probably surprise people to realize that of the three of us, he’s the most plugged into the celebrity gossip world, and he’s always looking for some new bandwagon to jump on—whether that means attempting to make a new celebrity friend or finding some other way to weasel himself into the drama. It’s the sort of thing you’d expect from Taylor, but the truth is that the drama just _finds_ him. I don’t think he’s ever had to actually look for it.

“Taylor,” Isaac said, leaning across the cab, because of course I got stuck in between the two of them. “You’re probably going to want to see this.”

I had a feeling I knew what _this_ was, and although he wouldn’t have let me, I could have spoken for Taylor. There was absolutely no way he wanted to see it.

Taylor reached for Ike’s phone listlessly, not even glancing his way. I wanted to stop him from looking at whatever it was, but I couldn’t. It was like watching a car wreck and being completely powerless to stop it, and I didn’t like that it was the second time I’d felt that way in less than twelve hours.

And like watching a car wreck, I had to get closer. I had to see the carnage for myself.

I leaned in ever so slightly so that I could see the phone in Taylor’s hands. Some celebrity gossip twitter account was pulled up on the screen and, just as I’d feared, there was a disturbingly clear photo of Taylor and Seamus making out. It wasn’t totally obvious that it was the two of them, but even a little speculation was bad enough, and there had been plenty of that over the years. Somehow, though, my promiscuous brother had avoided being photographed in any super revealing situations.

Until now.

Taylor’s hand was shaking as he wordlessly passed the phone back to Isaac. I could tell Ike wanted to say something, but surprisingly, he seemed to think better of it. For the rest of the cab ride to the hotel, which was thankfully only a few minutes longer, the three of us sat in total silence.

When we pulled up in front of the hotel, Taylor was out of the cab like he’d been shot out of a cannon. I was surprised he even gave himself time to grab his luggage before darting into the hotel to retrieve his key card. With most of our crew not traveling with us this time, it was up to us to take care of the hotel arrangements. That meant once Taylor had his room sorted out, he didn’t wait around for the rest of us.

I managed to get my key card quickly, and practically sprinted after Taylor. He had only vanished around the corner seconds before, so I dashed up the stairs rather than wait for the elevator. If I was lucky, I could cut him off before he made it to his room. Sure enough, as soon as I opened the door to our floor, Taylor was just getting out of the elevator.

“Taylor!” I called out and for a moment, I wasn’t sure he was even going to pause and look my way.

“Just don’t, Zac,” he said. “Just leave me alone. You can’t fix this. You can’t fix _any_ of this.”

With that, he turned and walked away.


	22. Sober

I wanted so badly to follow after Taylor. I wanted to force him to talk to me, to make him see that I was only trying to help him and be there for him. But I was beginning to realize that there were just certain things that I couldn’t force. Sure, I could coerce him into having sex with me and eventually admitting his lust. But I couldn’t make him love me. He either did or he didn’t, and right then, I really didn’t know which it was.

Realizing that there was just nothing I could do, I turned and walked toward my hotel room. It was several doors down from Taylor’s and by the time I reached it, he had already vanished into his room.

We had eaten a little dinner at the airport, so I really wasn’t hungry. There was nothing at all left to do for the rest of the evening. I tossed my bags down and flopped onto the bed, wondering if it was too early to just go to sleep. Considering the fact that it wasn’t entirely dark outside yet, I decided that it was. Instead, I turned on the television and flipped through the channels.

Nothing on, of course. It was going to be one of those evenings.

At some point, I got desperate. With that desperation came curiosity. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t stop myself. I pulled my iPad out and surfed around until I found what Isaac must have stumbled upon earlier. The story seemed to be spreading, though; there were any number of websites willing to tell me all about Taylor’s exploits. There were more pictures, some showing his face more than others, making it absolutely indisputable that it was him. Seamus always had his back to the camera, but there was no questioning, either, that he was a man. All the rumors about Taylor were confirmed with just one small series of cell phone photos.

It was kind of difficult for me to understand why the photos would upset Taylor so much. It wasn’t a secret. He didn’t flaunt it, surprisingly, but he never really tried to hide his sexuality, either. It was what it was. Why did it matter so much that the truth was out there now? Sure, it was sleazy. It wasn’t the most flattering outing ever. Was that what bothered him? I just didn’t know, and I _wouldn’t_ know if he kept stubbornly refusing to even speak to me.

I had just begun thumbing through the comments section of one gossip site when a knock came at the door. My stomach turned somersaults because I knew—I just _knew_ —that it was Taylor. Who else could it be?

I rushed to the door and flung it open, finding that I was indeed correct. He still looked like a mess, his head down and his shoulders slumped. He used to have a bad habit of that; it developed when he got taller and wanted to hide, to not stand out even more from the rest of the band. Somewhere along the way he outgrew that and came to love being the center of attention, but I supposed old habits died hard.

“Tay… you alright?”

He shook his head, but didn’t say anything. I took a step back to let him in the room, but he made no move and didn’t even acknowledge mine.

“Come on,” I said. “Just come in the room. If we’re going to talk, let’s not do it out in the hallway, okay?”

He seemed to consider that for a moment and finally nodded his head. I took another step back to let him in the room, and watched as Taylor made himself right at home in my room like nothing was wrong. Somehow, I didn’t find that surprising at all. I sat down next to him carefully, not wanting to get too close for fear of scaring him off again. It seemed like every little move around him had to be carefully calculated and planned to keep him from freaking out. So far, so good. He wasn’t looking at me, but at least he was here, sitting on my bed.

I couldn’t just sit and stare at him forever, though. I had to say or do something.

“It’s… it’s gonna be okay, Tay.” That was easily the lamest thing I could have said, and the look on Taylor’s face said that he thought so, too.

“I don’t know,” Taylor replied, shaking his head. With a chuckle he added, “But you know, it’s not like anyone is going to be surprised, right? I mean, anyone who doesn’t already know hasn’t been paying very much attention.”

“So then why is it a big deal?” I asked with genuine curiosity, not judgment. I hoped Taylor heard it that way.

Taylor shrugged. “It’s not so much about the gossip, really. I guess it’s really about Shay.”

“What about him?” I asked, scooting a tiny bit closer to Taylor.

“Well, think of the gossip _he_ could spread if he wanted to,” he said with a shudder.

“I really try not to,” I replied. “I’d go nuts if I worried about the world knowing… well, about us.”

He turned to look at me, brow furrowed. “How can you not think about it, though? I mean, we ought to be crazy… to want…”

“Maybe we are,” I said with a shrug. “Look, I’ve spent long enough beating myself up for it. Hating myself for feeling the way I do about you. That was bad enough. Whatever anyone else thinks couldn’t possibly be worse than what I’ve already thought about myself. I’m not saying it wouldn’t… be really fucking bad if they knew… but I just _can’t_ waste any time thinking about it. I just can’t do it, and I wish you wouldn’t either.”

Taylor stared at me for a moment, and I could have sworn I could actually see him turning my words over in his mind, weighing them to decide if he agreed. Finally, he gave me a tiny nod, then sighed. “Can you just… try not to sound so much smarter than me?”

I chuckled. “I’m not saying I’ll succeed, but I’ll try.”

Taylor huffed, but I could tell it was only in mock offense. Still, I watched him carefully for a moment to see if he was going to start pouting again. His mood seemed to be changing, though, his depression slowly fading.

“Do you think… and it’s totally okay if you say no, but can I give you a hug?” I asked. Noting Taylor’s skeptical look, I added, “You just look like you need one, that’s all.”

“Yeah…” Taylor admitted, his shoulders slumping. “I guess I do.”

Before he could change his mind, I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him in close. He seemed so frail and tiny that I thought I could have easily held him in my lap, but I had a feeling Taylor wouldn’t have appreciated that. I knew he didn’t want me feeling sorry for him. I couldn’t help it, though. I held him close and let him rest his head on my shoulder.

We stayed like that for a long time, just clinging desperately to each other. When Taylor pulled back, I feared that he was going to run again, but he didn’t. He stared into my eyes so long it started to worry me, and then he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. Within seconds, the kiss turned desperate and needy. All I could do was hold onto him as he practically crawled into my lap and knocked me onto my back.

I wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, what strange spell had come over Taylor, but I could only hope that this continued.

His hands grasped at my shirt, pulling it out of my pants and tugged it upward. It took nearly all my strength just to pry Taylor away from my mouth, as much as I didn’t want to, so I could remove my shirt entirely. As soon as it was gone, he descended on me again with kisses more deep and desperate than any I’d ever known. I barely had the restraint left to keep from just ripping the buttons right off his shirt, but somehow, I managed to leave them intact as I freed him from the garment and tossed it across the room.

“Zac…” Taylor whispered against my neck. “Can you… can we…”

Somehow, with just those few words, I knew what he was asking for. At least, I hoped I did. I flipped him over onto his back and began trailing kisses down his neck and chest. When he didn’t complain or try to stop me, then I was sure that I’d guessed correctly. He didn’t complain, either, when I undid his pants and slid my hand inside. My mouth followed closely after, with every intention of outdoing the blow job he’d given me just a few days ago. Even when I knew Taylor needed comforting, I couldn’t help being a little bit of a showoff. I didn’t know how long this moment with him was going to last, so I had every intention of turning it into something he wouldn’t soon forget. I grabbed my lube from the bag I’d been too lazy to remove from my bed, then shoved the bag into the floor. Seconds later, I sent Taylor’s pants and underwear flying off the bed to join it.

I think Taylor actually moaned before my lips even touched his skin, but I didn’t mind. As much as he’d yo-yo’d back and forth with his feelings for me, I needed a little confidence boost. When I finally did lower my mouth entirely onto his dick, the sound he made was as beautiful as music, and I wanted nothing more than to hear that sound over and over for the rest of time.

“Please, Zac…” Taylor whined.

I couldn’t help smiling a little at that, even with my mouth still full. I knew it wasn’t a confession of love, but the desperation in his voice, in his every action, was so, so obvious. And that was nearly as good. All I needed was for him to realize that I could satisfy his needs—all of them.

He actually pouted when I pulled back to retrieve the lube. My lips only left him for the time it took to pour a little lube into my hand but apparently that was too long for Taylor. I had to wonder how long he’d wanted this but refused to let himself give in again. Rather that asking, I decided just to give him what he wanted and not make him wait a single second longer. I spread his legs and pushed one lube covered finger into him, watching the way his face immediately contorted in a look of pure pleasure.

In only a matter of seconds, he was begging for more, and I was powerless to refuse him. I wanted this just as much as he did. I just wanted to be near him—not just near, but as close as humanly possible. I needed it. The way Taylor rocked back against my fingers let me know that he needed it too.

And I had no intention of making him wait any longer for it.

I climbed off him for only the length of time absolutely necessary to remove my jeans and boxers. Naturally, I tripped over my own damn feet in the process, but Taylor hardly even seemed to notice the ungraceful way I fell back onto the bed and clamored to get back on top of him. As soon as I was in position, I leaned down and kissed him gently. It seemed out of place with how lustful the rest of this whole thing was, but I wanted him to know how I felt, even if I couldn’t put all of it into words. I hoped he understood.

Of course, I didn’t stop to _ask_ if he understood. There would be time enough to talk about things later. Right then, it was time for action.

In one smooth move, I thrust completely into Taylor. For a moment, I just lay there and tried to memorize the way it felt—the way he felt. I hadn’t gone this far, especially not without a condom, with very many men at all, but Taylor was easily at the top of that list. It had nothing to do with his skills, his body, or anything other than just the fact that he was Taylor.

My Taylor.

He wiggled his hips impatiently and I couldn’t help chuckling a little. Taking his cue, I began to roll my hips, building up a nice rhythm. It wasn’t too slow or too fast. Just right. Just perfect to make this last long enough to commit to memory as the best sex either of us had ever had. I didn’t think it was too cocky to call it that; if Taylor’s moans were any indication, he’d certainly never felt this way before, and I knew I hadn’t—at least not since the last time we’d done this.

When Taylor’s moans turned into pathetic little whimpers, I wrapped my hand around his dick and began to stroke him. The closer I could tell he was to his orgasm, the faster I went. I leaned down and pressed my forehead against his, staring right into his eyes. I was surprised to find them still open and trained on me. Whatever emotion I saw in them, I couldn’t identify, but it was apparently what I needed to push me over the edge.

I stared into Taylor’s eyes as I came, then kissed him deeply. I kept thrusting as long as I could, and soon I felt him moan and spasm against me. When his tremors subsided, I collapsed against him and considered just staying in that position all night. I knew, of course, that it was impractical, but I didn’t want to do anything that might ruin this moment we were finally sharing.

I had to move, though.

Reluctantly, I peeled myself away from Taylor and walked into the bathroom to grab a towel. I wiped myself off, tossed that towel down and grabbed another one for Taylor. Part of me expected him to be gone when I walked back into the room, but he wasn’t. For that, I let out a little sigh of relief, then tossed the towel onto his stomach.

While Taylor cleaned himself, I pulled my boxers back on and contemplated what to say and do next. Every tiny little move was important. History had shown that anything at all could send Taylor running. It almost didn’t even matter what I did, really. Taylor would do what Taylor wanted to do, and what he usually wanted to do was pretend that what we did in bed meant nothing to him.

To my surprise, I turned back to the bed to find him just laying there, still naked, staring up at me.

“Come here,” he said, tossing his towel into the floor and extending his arms toward me. It was adorable, but I couldn’t help wondering if he was a little bit drunk. He hadn’t seemed that way…

“Okay,” I finally replied with a chuckle and a little bit of skepticism that it was some sort of trick.

It wasn’t, though. As soon as I climbed onto the bed, Taylor attached himself to me like a leech. It did remind me of the night I’d rescued his drunk ass from Alex, but I was positive I smelled no alcohol in his breath tonight.

He was completely sober and he was still choosing to stay with me.


	23. Just Sex

I woke up the next morning to a feeling that was becoming familiar during this tour. It was different, though, and it only took me a few seconds to remember that it was Taylor in bed with me, not Carrick. Once I recovered from the shock of that, I ran my hand gently up and down his arm, then carefully pushed his hair back so that I could see his face. He looked so peaceful, and I didn’t want to do a single thing to disturb or change that.

So, naturally, that was the perfect time for someone to knock on the door.

Taylor barely even stirred next to me, and there was no way I could take the time to wake him up and get him dressed and hidden before whoever was at the door got impatient. I pulled the covers up almost entirely over his head and hoped that was somehow enough to hide him. When it didn’t seem to disturb him at all, I rushed to the door just as whoever it was began to knock again.

“Yeah?” I asked, opening the door only as far as the lock allowed, just in case Taylor was still visible in the bed. Through that small crack, I could see Isaac staring back at me with a big frown on his face.

“Uh, bus call in an hour,” he said. “At least, that’s when they’re supposed to be here to take us to the venue. Machine just called.”

“Okay,” I replied, trying not to laugh at the way Isaac was trying so hard not to notice the fact that I was nearly naked. If only he knew…

With the tiniest tilt of his head, he asked, “Have you seen Taylor? He didn’t answer his door.”

“I just woke up,” I replied. “Why would I have seen Taylor?”

“Just thought maybe you had,” he said with a dismissive shrug.

I watched his face carefully for any sign that he really had a reason to think I might have seen Taylor and was lying about him, but he seemed completely clueless to the truth. With a little shrug of my own, I said, “He probably just went to get coffee or something.”

“Yeah… probably,” Ike replied with a nod. “Well, anyway, come on down to the lobby in an hour. I’ll text you if I hear anything else from them.”

I dismissed Isaac as quickly as I could with plenty of assurances that I would be on time. I wasn’t really concerned, considering the fact that the bus wasn’t even here yet. What worried me was hiding Taylor from Isaac. It had seemed far too simple, and usually those were the times when things blew up in your face. If I relaxed and got complacent, it could be bad. For all the reassuring words I’d had for Taylor, I too was scared shitless of someone finding out about us. For whatever reason, Seamus was keeping his mouth shut, but I knew we couldn’t trust anyone else to be as tight lipped.

When I turned back to the bed, Taylor still seemed to be asleep, but had managed to uncover himself and roll onto his back, his hair spreading out like a halo across the pillow. I’m not ashamed to admit that I could have spent the entire day just staring at him while he slept. I didn’t even care how creepy that would be.

I didn’t get to stare for long before Taylor started to stir, though. At first, he looked confused. Then that look faded into some other emotion that I couldn’t place, but it looked even worse than confused.

“I spent the night,” he said. It was a statement, not a question, since it was quite obvious that he did.

I just nodded. “Yeah. You did. Bus call in an hour, so… I guess you should probably go back to your room and take a shower.”

I didn’t want to tell him to leave, but I could see that he was looking for a reason to run yet again. It hurt, but I wasn’t even surprised at all, and that lack of surprise dulled the pain some. The day that Taylor truly stayed would be the day I was surprised.

I showered quickly, just in case there might be a possibility of catching Taylor before he left my room. I knew it was a slim chance, though. The hotel washcloth was rough and I scrubbed myself angrily with it, hating myself for yet again letting Taylor get to me. I let him in, gave him everything I thought he wanted, and he still gave me _nothing_ in return. Why did I think that would ever change?

Sure enough, when I emerged from the bathroom, he was gone. He left no sign at all that he had ever been there. It was almost enough for me to think the night before had just been a figment of my imagination. But it wasn’t. It was a reality that just kept repeating itself over and over. It was the worst sort of groundhog day scenario that I could imagine.

There was still nearly a half hour until bus call when I finished dressing and packing, but I headed on down to the lobby anyway. There was no point sticking around and feeling sorry for myself. If I could get the day started and keep myself busy, maybe I could get through it without too much angst. I wasn’t holding my breath, though.

Isaac was already waiting in the lobby when I arrived, and of course, he asked me yet again where Taylor was. I assured him that I had no idea, which really wasn’t a lie that time. Paranoia was starting to creep in, though. Did Ike know more than he was letting on? I hoped not. Taylor and I had always been closer; it wasn’t unreasonable to expect me to know more about his whereabouts than Ike did. That had to be all there was to it.

In the end, Taylor didn’t bother to wander down to the lobby until the bus had already pulled up out front. I had to wonder if he planned it that way, and ultimately I decided that somehow he must have. It was just such a typically Taylor move. It shouldn’t surprise anyone that “Hanson time” is really just Taylor being fashionably late for everything. Right then, though, I knew he was just avoiding me.

I was really getting tired of that. At the same time, Taylor had done it so many times that it barely even garnered any sort of emotional reaction anymore.

Okay, that wasn’t entirely true. But that’s what I was choosing to tell myself while I ignored the giant, Taylor-sized hole in my heart.

Before I could spend much more time thinking about it all, I was swept up into a flurry of activity. These little side trips always threw off the flow of the tour, and it took us a while to get our suitcases back into place and sort out our schedule for the day. It was just a normal tour day, but it came on the heels of several very not normal days, so everything still just felt a little off. At least the little group meeting at the front of the bus meant that for a few minutes Taylor couldn’t avoid me.

Since he hadn’t, in fact, gotten his necessary coffee fix that morning, Taylor insisted that the bus swing by the nearest coffee shop on the way to the venue. After a bit of debate, which I decided not to even take part in, everyone agreed on a diner instead. Taylor could still get his caffeine, although it would more likely be plain black and not one of his preferred girly drinks, and the rest of us could enjoy a relaxing lunch before we really had to get to work.

I sat back and stealthily watched Taylor over the top of my iPad during the drive. He was too engrossed in his book to notice, and I had a perfect view of his furrowed brow. More than anything else, I wanted to reach across the bus and smooth those worry wrinkles right out, but I knew I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried to be good to him and be what he needed, he would still see me as part of the problem. Understanding that didn’t change anything about how I felt, though.

When we arrived at the diner, we somehow managed to find several unoccupied tables that we could push together. Naturally, Taylor sat at the opposite end from me, once again putting as much distance as he could between the two of us. I knew I’d had plenty of my own petty, childish moments during this tour, but it seemed Taylor was determined to top all of them with his theatrics and overdramatics.

Taylor stared into his coffee the entire time, seeming not to notice a single thing other than it. I’m not sure he even touched his food, and considering I barely took my eyes off him, I think I would have noticed if he did. I knew he would be angry if he noticed me staring, but I couldn’t stop. He wasn’t okay, and it was at least partially my fault. Somehow, I thought if I just spent enough time watching him, I could figure out what to do to fix things.

Watching him drink coffee provided me with no answers, unfortunately.

I contemplated my situation as I ate my burger, but still had no solution. Even as we boarded the bus and headed off to the venue, I continued to think. The only thing I realized was that I hadn’t actually told Taylor how I felt. It seemed so obvious and yet it wasn’t. I thought he knew, but… what if hearing the words changed everything? That change could be for better or for worse, but it was a chance I had to take.

If I could actually get him to talk to me, that was.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to get him alone. Someone was always around, which in my paranoia, I decided had to somehow be Taylor’s doing. I didn’t think he was quite cunning enough to bribe people to get in our way, though, but with Taylor, anything was possible. Even when I thought I had him cornered, he always seemed to duck out of sight before I could find the right words. I spent the entire afternoon feeling like I was chasing him around the venue.

In the end, I didn’t get him alone until I actually ran into him as I rounded a corner. Figures.

“Tay,” I said, almost like a warning, as I grabbed his arm to keep him from running off.

“What.”

I sighed. “I just… can we talk? Can you not run away from me all the time?”

“It’s hard to run when you’re holding onto me,” he replied.

I tried really hard not to roll my eyes at that one, but I didn’t think I succeeded.

“Seriously, can you just let me go? We don’t need to talk.”

“Yeah. We do.”

Taylor huffed, but relaxed slightly. “Fine. Say whatever you want to say.”

“It’s just… you can’t undo what we do just by leaving afterward.”

“That’s a fucking shame,” Taylor replied.

That time, I didn’t even try to stop my eyes from rolling. “You know what? I really don’t even know what your problem is. I leave you alone when you ask, and that’s not enough. Then you start getting pissy about Carrick being on tour, then you get shitfaced and I have to cuddle you. Then you want me, but you _still_ run. What, exactly, am I not doing for you?”

“Nothing,” Taylor admitted. “But look… it’s just sex, okay? Why can’t you just let that be it and stop acting like there’s anything more going on than that?”

I took a step in closer to him. “Can you honestly tell me that’s all you think is happening here?”

He didn’t reply.

“You don’t want me to be with Carrick,” I reminded him. “You _did_ want me when you were drunk. And you came to me when you couldn’t deal with the gossip about you and Seamus. But no, it’s just sex. Nothing more. Right.”

“It shouldn’t even be that,” he replied.

“Well, it is,” I said. “Why does it make you feel better to pretend that’s _all_?”

“I don’t know,” Taylor admitted, his voice so slow and close to breaking that I could barely even hear him.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. That was as close to admitting he shared my feelings as I figured Taylor would ever get, and I wanted so badly to say something, anything. I pulled him in closer with the hand that still grasped his arm, but just as I leaned in to kiss him, I heard footsteps.

“There you guys are!” Ike called out. “Meeting in the green room in five.”

I looked at Ike, then back at Taylor, who was scrambling to free himself from my grip. Still, I had no words for either of them. Taylor freed himself and hurried after Isaac, and I knew the moment had passed. We’d reached a milestone, but I doubted that Taylor would even acknowledge it the next time we spoke.

One step forward, two steps back, it seemed.


	24. Bodyguard

True to form, Taylor ignored me as much as he possibly could for the rest of the afternoon and evening. It didn’t surprise me at all, but it didn’t bother me as much as it had in the past.

It might take him a while to accept his own admission, but I’d heard it. That was what mattered.

I tried not to walk too close to him during the walk. If he needed his space to help him admit the truth, then I could give him that. For a while, anyway. If I had to spend two weeks without him again, I would probably lose my mind. But staying a few feet behind him while he chatted with the fans? That I could handle.

I tried to pretend he wasn’t even there, walking in front of me, even though I kept a close watch on him. I was reminded of when we were younger and Taylor kept a watchful eye on me, practically dragging me along by my shirt when we navigated our way through crowds. Somewhere along the way, I became his bodyguard instead, whether he realized it or not. When he seemed so constantly on the verge of falling apart, how could I not keep a watchful eye on him?

“So, what’s the deal with you and that guy?” I heard some girl ask in a voice so loud and shrill that I would have heard it even if I hadn’t been on high alert.

“W-what guy?” Taylor responded.

“Well, it’s just… there are all these pictures online… I mean, they’re probably fake, but it’s still kind of crazy.”

Taylor stopped walking and even though I was behind him, I could imagine the look of sheer terror on his face. I couldn’t stop myself. I rushed forward and placed a hand on his back. He flinched, but to my surprise, relaxed slightly when he turned his head and saw that it was me. I gave him a tiny nudge and he began walking again.

“Why don’t you girls lay off him?” I asked. “He doesn’t have to answer questions about his personal life. This is a walk, not a gossip party.”

The girls just stared up at me, wide eyed and slack jawed. I really didn’t care if I offended them. They truly had no right to ask Taylor about the pictures, especially not in such a crude manner. He obviously had no idea what to say to them; he couldn’t even manage to be as eloquent as the words I’d overheard him say to them about Seamus before. With my hand on his back still, he picked up his pace and we left those nosy fans in our dust. And I really, really didn’t care if that was mean.

Taylor was obviously on guard for the rest of the walk and I hated it. I wanted to wrap my arms around him, massage the tension out of his shoulders, kiss his worries anyway—anything at all to calm him down. But, of course, I couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything like that in front of the fans, and I wasn’t so sure Taylor would let me do it in private, either.

Still, I stayed by his side for the rest of the walk. Nothing could have come between us right then. Whether he would admit that he needed me or not, I couldn’t leave him.

He gave what was easily the shortest end of walk speech he’d ever given. Not even when it was raining or snowing has he talked so quickly. He hopped from one foot to the other and shivered, but even in the snow, he poured so much passion into his speech. But this time, he talked so quickly that his words just blended together into an indecipherable sound that I doubt anyone in the crowd can understand.

Soon enough, it’s over. I stay glued to his side as we walk into the venue, because at that point, I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t even remember how not to be his bodyguard.

The walk was late that day, so we’d already held our soundcheck earlier. That gave us a while just to sit around backstage and relax before the concert. Those few short breaks were always welcome, but this one seemed to be full of a strange tension. As soon as we were inside the venue, Taylor darted away from me and it took me a while to even locate him again. I didn’t think the venue was large enough for him to hide in, but Taylor had a talent for vanishing.

Even when I did locate him, finally, it was in the crowded green room. There were too many people around for me to corner Taylor and ask him why he’d run away. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to know the answer.

I decided, rather than asking, I would just be annoying and stay near him. Eventually he would realize there was nothing he could do to chase me away. He could run from me, he could tell me this thing between us was just sex, he could do _whatever_ he wanted and I would still be there. I was, after all, still his brother, even if that was a large part of the problem.

To that end, I stayed as near to him as I possibly could, like an annoying little fly hovering close enough to see and hear, but not close to enough swat. I knew it annoyed Taylor, but I didn’t care. As long as I was getting under his skin, I was getting _some_ reaction from him. Eventually he would see the truth, even if I had to annoy him into it.

I showed more patience than I even thought I had. Altogether, it really wasn’t even a couple hours, but that was pretty good for me. Taylor and I weren’t alone until after the opening band was on stage. Then, everyone was too busy getting ready for our show to pay any attention to us at all.

In the end, I didn’t have to corner Taylor. He cornered me.

I was standing at the catering table, with my back to the green room door, so I didn’t even see him coming. Somehow, he was completely silent, and I only realized he was right behind me when he spoke.

“What the hell is your problem, Zac?”

“You’re really going to have to be more specific than that.”

Taylor rolled his eyes. “You know what mean. Earlier, on the walk.”

“Again, you’re going to have to be more specific.”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he huffed. “Acting like you were my bodyguard. I don’t need you to do that, Zac. You’re not my boyfriend. I can take care of myself.”

I stepped in closer and lowered my voice. “Can you? Can you really, Tay? Because this whole tour, I’ve watched you fall apart, and yeah, maybe I was the cause of that most of the time. But now all I honestly want is to put you back together the best that I can, and you won’t let me.”

“How can you?” Taylor asked, his voice breaking a little. “You’re just as broken as I am.”

He wasn’t wrong. I knew he wasn’t wrong. That didn’t mean his words didn’t still hurt.

“You’re the one who… who started all of this. Who made me remember all of that and… and just opened up this wound.”

“And who caused the wound in the first place?” I countered.

Taylor glanced away, and I knew I had him. It didn’t feel as good as I’d hoped.

Still, I couldn’t help poking now that I’d found his weak spot. “I know I was there, too, Tay…. but who really started it?”

“I don’t know, alright?” He finally replied. “I guess it was me. You know I was drunk, and that’s not an excuse, it’s just the truth. I was drunk, you were drunk, we were young and stupid. What more do you want from me?”

That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? What _did_ I want from him, besides everything?

“Just… just realize what it put me through, Tay,” I said. “Can you do that? Can you see it through someone else’s eyes?”

“You think the view’s that much different than through mine?”

I blinked.

Taylor took a step closer to me, nearly closing the distance between our bodies. “Maybe I didn’t think about it all the time, maybe I didn’t dwell on it the way you did… but now that I know what it meant, do you really think it’s any easier for me to deal with?”

“Do you _really_ know, Tay?” I asked so softly the words were almost a whisper. “Can you honestly tell me you know how I feel about you? Because I don’t think you can.”

He only stared at me. It wasn’t entirely blank, but I still wasn’t sure if he was admitting his ignorance… or daring me to say it myself.

“Why do you think I want to put you back together? Why do you think I care so much? I know I have a weird way of showing it, believe me.”

“You can say that again,” he mumbled.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, because I knew sarcasm wouldn’t help me now, not when we seemed so close to an actual breakthrough. “Tay, seriously… why do you think I keep pushing, keep staying even when _you_ push me away?”

He stared at me, wide eyed, and I could have sworn I actually saw the words forming in his mind. The gears were turning, realization was dawning…

And then the green room door swung open.

A group of our crew members burst into the room, talking and laughing loudly. Taylor’s lips, which had been slightly parted, just on the verge of speech, clamped tightly shut. The moment passed. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, say it now.

Taylor turned away from me with barely more than a parting glance, and rushed from the room. I wanted to slam my fist through the wall, but I knew that was silly. It was only a temporary setback, only a small delay. That one interruption couldn’t possibly have undone all of our progress… could it?


	25. Love

I tried to stay calm for the rest of the night. There was no chance at all for Taylor and I to be alone, no matter how hard I tried. I hated that whenever we seemed to make progress, something stupid, petty and completely out of our control always stepped in and set us back. There had to be some way for us to push past all the bullshit, but I knew it wouldn’t happen unless and until we both wanted to.

And I still wasn’t convinced that Taylor wanted to.

We were at a turning point. I could feel it, and I was pretty sure, by the tiny glances he chanced giving me during the concert, he could too. Whatever happened next was going to change everything, maybe even more than that first kiss had. Once all of our cards were on the table… there was no going back. I couldn’t take back those three words I had been so close to saying to him, and he couldn’t unhear them.

It was actually kind of terrifying to think about, and a part of me was relieved that we had no chance to be alone again during the rest of the concert. At the same time, the longer we went without being able to talk about it, the longer I had to dwell and get nervous about all the potential outcomes. Better to just get it over with, like ripping off a bandaid.

There was, of course, no chance to speak during the concert. What little we ever said to each other during a show was always about the show itself and nothing else. Our focus had to be on the performance, at least in theory. Of course it didn’t always work that way, but that was the goal. To that end, I had no chance to even say one word to him that wasn’t about the next song or whatever.

When the show ended, I rushed after Taylor, but he was too quick for me. I had to wonder if he was trying to avoid me. I hoped that wasn’t the case, but it had happened so many times in the recent past, that it seemed the most obvious possibility. He was the first into the venue’s shower, and he took so long that eventually I gave up and just went straight back to the bus.

The drive back to our hotel wasn’t the right time to approach him, either. There were still too many people around. We could talk, sure, but we couldn’t have any sort of meaningful conversation—at least not the one I wanted to have.

By the time we reached the hotel and went off to our separate rooms, I’d completely given up hope of us ever having the conversation we needed to have. I hadn’t been able to shower at the venue, so I decided to take a long, hot shower before I slept. That would relax me, at least physically, and maybe I would be able to get a little rest, even with such a weight still resting on my mind.

I had barely stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself with a towel when I heard a knock at the door. It was so faint that I stood still in the bathroom and waited to see if I heard it again. When it did sound again, just a tiny bit louder, I wrapped the towel tightly around my waist and padded across the room to see who it was. I could only think of one possibility.

When I swung the door open, I saw that I was right.

“Taylor.”

For a moment, he just stared at me. I feared he would run away, and I wanted to just grab him and pull him into the room, but I didn’t. I waited.

“Tay?”

“I, umm…” Taylor stuttered out. “W-what you were saying earlier. What did you mean?”

“What did you think I meant?” I asked softly. I wanted to push him, but not scare him away.

“T-that… that you love me.”

I nodded. Finally gaining the courage to at least reach for Taylor, I put my hand on his arm. He didn’t pull away. “I do, Tay.”

Taylor gave me a nod of his own, the movement almost so tiny as to be completely imperceptible. I wasn’t sure if he was acknowledging what I’d admitted, or trying to tell me that he felt the same, and I still didn’t dare ask.

“Can we… do you want to come in?” I asked. “I mean, I’m kind of naked.”

His eyes flicked over my body, as though he’d just noticed that I really was standing there in nothing but a towel. It made me blush a little, especially when I noticed the corner of his lips turn up into a smile.

After a moment, he nodded, and I stepped back to let him into the room. He followed me in, stopping awkwardly just inside the door. I was still in a towel, after all, and he was fully dressed.

“Just, umm… give me a second…” I mumbled, walking back into the small bathroom where I’d left my bag. I grabbed a pair of boxers and tripped over my own feet in my hurry to put them on. I didn’t dare waste a second for fear that Taylor would leave again. Maybe something between us had changed, but that didn’t put my worries to rest.

When I walked back out into the room, though, Taylor was sitting on the very edge of my bed. He’d taken his shoes off, but showed no other signs of really making himself at home. As carefully as I could, I sat down next to him, but not too close.

We sat silently for a long time, until I couldn’t take it anymore. Even if it scared him away. I had to talk.

“I know that’s probably not what you wanted to hear,” I said. “But it’s… it’s true. I love you, Tay. It’s not just lust, you know? If it had been any random guy, then maybe it would be lust, and I could just get over it. But it’s not. It’s you, and you’re my brother, and yeah that makes it really fucked up. But I _know_ you. I’m around you all the time, and you’re my best friend. You’re just… so much a part of me, that whatever it was that started it, whether it was lust or whatever… it got mixed up with all those brotherly feelings of love, and now I _really_ love you. Like I’ve never loved anyone else.”

“Have you even tried?”

I blinked. “Have I even tried what?”

“Loving someone else.”

“Not really,” I admitted. “Dating other people? Sure. But the way I felt about them… I just knew it wouldn’t compare. It _was_ pointless.”

“I never wanted to love anyone. Not after… well, everything with Alex and Natalie. You’re right. It was pointless.”

I waited, because I could tell he wasn’t finished. He was just getting started.

“And then you… well, you know what you did. And everything just changed. Everything I didn’t want to feel, not just about you, but at all. It was all just there. And it _sucked_.”

It was so far from the most eloquent thing Taylor had ever said, but I didn’t care. Right then, it meant everything. Carefully, tentatively, I scooted closer to Taylor and put my arm around him so lightly that I was barely touching him at all.

“I don’t like feeling this,” he admitted. “But the thing is… I can’t not feel it now. I know what you mean. How… how we’re brothers, and it’s just there, whether I want it or not. And I think… I don’t like it, but it would be worse if I didn’t feel it. If I didn’t let myself feel it. If I ran from it.”

“What is _it_ , Tay?” I asked softly.

He turned his head to me, the saddest look in his eyes. I hated myself for asking, and I wished I could take it back. Before I could, he answered. “You know what it is. I love you, too.”

I had to repeat the words over in my mind several times, his voice echoing in my brain, before I could convince myself that I’d really heard it. I hated the sadness in his eyes when he said it, though. But it was a sadness that I knew. Who really _wanted_ to fall in love with their own brother, after all? Once it happened, though, how could you walk away from it and deny it? The affection you had, the relationship you had… that bond couldn’t be broken. Not even by the sort of feelings most people would call sick and twisted.

Now Taylor understood that too.

For once, it didn’t feel so awful to share my burden with him.

It did, however, make me want to wrap him up in my arms and never let him go. So I did just that—or, at least, I held him as tightly as I could for the time being. I didn’t know how long he would let it go on, but I had a sneaking feeling that he wasn’t ever going to run away again. I hoped I was right.

“What do we do now?” He mumbled against my shoulder, the words so muffled that I could only barely make them out.

“Can we not worry about that yet?” I asked. “Can we just worry about tonight, and let the rest sort itself out later?”

After a moment, Taylor gave the tiniest of nods. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s just… sleep, okay? I’m tired.”

“Me too,” I replied, even though I wasn’t really. I could have stayed up all night just talking to him. I had him now. I didn’t want to let a single moment go to waste.

But if he wanted to sleep, then sleep was what we were going to do.

I didn’t even bother trying not to stare shamelessly as Taylor stripped down to his underwear and crawled across the bed. Instead, I just laid back and opened my arms to him with a smile on my face. I knew I’d been awful to him, not even that long ago, but I needed him to know I was here for him now. Like earlier, with the fans, it seemed easier to just do it than to say it. I could say all kinds of things and not mean them. But when Taylor really _saw_ me loving him, that was when everything changed.

I flipped off the lamp beside the bed and settled in with Taylor, not even caring if we really did just go to sleep. For once, I had no worries about whether or not he would still be there when I woke up. With my arms wrapped tightly around him, I pressed a gentle goodnight kiss to his forehead.

“Zac,” he said softly. “I know… what you did today. I get that. But you’ve gotta admit… some of the other stuff…”

“I know,” I replied, because even though he was stuttering, I knew what he meant. “It just… everything just built up, everything I’d felt over the years. And I was so jealous… you don’t even know how much it hurt.”

Weakly, almost inaudibly, he said, “I think I do.”

“And I’m sorry for that. I didn’t have you, and I just needed someone—not even like that, but yeah, that happened too—and Carrick was there. I was weak.”

“Would it be too much for me to ask that you _don’t_ give in to that weakness again?”

“Not at all,” I answered. “I mean, I don’t know if we’re… if you wanna call us…”

“Boyfriends?” Taylor offered. “That feels weird.”

“It does,” I agreed. “We’re just… us. We know what we are. That’s all that matters.”

And it was true. Right then, lying in bed with Taylor, nothing else mattered but the fact that we were finally _together_.


	26. Running

During this tour, it had become my norm to wake up next to someone else. It was a new thing for me, but it was quickly becoming very, very familiar. I liked it. I liked it even more when I woke up enough to remember that the body next to mine this time was Taylor’s.

He hadn’t run.

I almost didn’t even believe it. For a long time, I just lay there, staring at his sleeping form, trying to make sure he was real. Of course he was, though. He was no illusion. Taylor was really there, still sleeping in my hotel bed. He looked peaceful and happier than I could recall seeing him look for quite some time. I had to admit, I felt just as happy as he looked. Perhaps finally confessing everything had taken a weight off both of our shoulders. It certainly felt that way.

The weight couldn’t stay off long, though. My staring contest with the back of Taylor’s eyelids was interrupted by a knock at the door. He didn’t stir, so I just pulled the covers over his chest and carefully lifted myself out of bed. Taylor _still_ didn’t stir. When whoever it was knocked again, louder, I hurried to answer it before Taylor finally did wake up.

When I opened the door, I saw that it was only Isaac. I wasn’t sure why I had feared worse, or what _worse_ would actually entail.

“Eww, Zac,” he said, making a face and obviously struggling to only look at my face. “Couldn’t you have at least gotten dressed first?”

“Considering I just woke up? Nope.” It was only a little bit of a lie; I didn’t really know how long I’d laid there staring at Taylor, but it couldn’t have been long.

“Well, you need to get your ass up. Didn’t you hear Bex knocking earlier?”

“No, I didn’t,” I replied honestly. Had I really slept through that? I supposed I really was resting more easily now that everything was okay with Taylor.

Isaac frowned. “We’re already running late. Just pack your shit and come on down. You don’t have time for a shower.”

“Okay, just give me a few minutes,” I replied, annoyed that we were running late and I wouldn’t have any more time to spend with Taylor. It didn’t matter if it was my own fault; I still took a little bit of that anger out on Isaac.

Isaac wasn’t listening to me, though. His eyes were fixed on a point just over my shoulder, and I spun around to see what he was looking at. I should have known; after all, I had just been thinking about going back to bed with Taylor.

“Umm, why is Taylor in your room?” He asked. “I didn’t think you two were sharing.”

I had to think of something quickly. I’d covered so many of my tracks so well over the years, but right then, I couldn’t think of anything even remotely believable. The longer Isaac stared and the longer I remained quiet, the worse things looked.

“He, umm,” I stuttered out. “He came over last night… we just watched a movie and stuff, and I guess he fell asleep here. We were both pretty tired after the show.”

It was a weak excuse, and the hesitance in my voice betrayed me. But what other explanation could Isaac possibly think of on his own? Surely he would never jump to the conclusion that his brothers were fucking. That was just insane, wasn’t it?

“Alright, whatever,” Isaac finally said with a shake of his head. “Just hurry up and get ready, and make sure Taylor does, too. Twenty minutes.”

It took several more assurances that we would hurry to get Isaac to finally leave, which seemed counterproductive to me. Standing in the doorway talking wasn’t accomplishing anything. He still seemed a little confused about why Taylor was in my room, but finally, he stopped talking and left. As the door shut behind him, I let out a sigh of relief. Somehow, things were still okay, at least for the moment.

Taylor was just beginning to stir when I turned back to the bed, but I left him alone. I still feared shocking him and sending him running away, even though that was seeming more and more ridiculous. Surely this time he was here to stay.

Still, I didn’t want to give him an extra reason to run. While he tossed and turned, slowly rejoining the world of the living, I began picking up my clothes. It didn’t take long; we hadn’t spent enough time in that particular hotel for me to make much of a mess. Once that was done, I decided I probably had time to brush my teeth, if nothing else. If anything could make Taylor run now, my morning breath was it.

I didn’t even hear Taylor stirring again, but suddenly he appeared in the mirror behind me. “Time to wake up?”

“Mhm,” I replied, spitting a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink. “Apparently we slept in. Ike already came around looking for us.”

Taylor’s eyes widened. “Did he come in the room?”

“He, umm, he stood outside,” I replied, even though I knew that wasn’t what Taylor was really asking. With my head down, I added, “He saw you, though. In my bed.”

“Fuck,” Taylor mumbled, turning away and walking out of the bathroom.

By the time I’d put my toothbrush away and followed him, he was already in his jeans and pulling his shirt back over his head.

“Tay,” I said. “Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what?” He asked with a blank face.

“This,” I replied, motioning to him. “Don’t just run away again. Don’t get my hopes up and then just leave me hanging again. Next thing I know, you’re going to tell me it’s just sex. Again.”

“I’m not running. I’m just…” He trailed off, staring into the distance. “Look, we just have to get ready to go, right? So that’s what I’m doing.”

I eyed him suspiciously. “Is that all? Really?”

Taylor took a few steps closer to me, but I didn’t feel comforted by it. “That’s all. I just… I mean, what did Ike say? Did he know?”

“No,” I replied, but it didn’t sound very convincing. “I think he… I think he bought my excuse.”

“Yeah, well,” Taylor said, turning away from me again. “I’m not running. I just think we’re taking too many risks.”

“That sounds a whole hell of a lot like you running.”

Taylor sighed and ran a hand through his hair. I could tell he was looking for anything, grasping at any possible straws to convince me that he wasn’t just fleeing the scene, yet again.

“Look, can we just… just relax?” He finally asked. “Just for a few days? I mean, what’s the rush?”

“Sure, what the hell?” I backed away from him, raising my hands in defeat. “It’s not like I’ve been waiting half my life or anything.”

“Half your life?” Taylor blinked.

I shrugged. “Half my life, a decade, whatever. That’s not the point.”

“No,” Taylor said, stepping in even closer to me. I fought the urge to back away from him. “It is the point, and god I wish I’d known sooner. Why couldn’t you have just told me?”

“What difference would it have made? You would have still done whatever you wanted. Or whoever. I mean, I was a kid, Tay. I’d only just turned fifteen. Would you have honestly believed me if I’d confessed to loving you back then?”

“Yeah. Maybe. I don’t know,” he replied, his eyes darting downward.

“Exactly,” I said. “So I didn’t tell you. Maybe it wasn’t right to bottle it up either, because it made me do… bad things. To you, and in general. But it seemed like the only option. But it doesn’t matter. It’s done.”

It seemed that once I’d finally crossed that final hurdle and found the courage to tell Taylor everything I felt, I couldn’t stop. The words just kept coming almost in spite of me. And they didn’t matter at all. Taylor stared at me blankly, his head shaking.

“I just… I didn’t know any of that,” he finally said.

“Well, now you do.”

The shaking transitioned into the world’s tiniest nod. “Yeah, yeah I do. But it doesn’t… it doesn’t change anything. This is still such a huge risk, and you _know_ that. You know it. We were almost discovered right then, and god only knows why Seamus doesn’t tell people. What if he does? What if Ike finds out?”

“What if, what if, what if?” I cried. “I don’t know! I can’t think about that all the time; I told you.”

“You _have_ to think about it. Because it’s reality.”

“So what?” I replied. “I can think myself to death. What do you want me to do about it?”

Taylor sighed, taking a few steps back. “Just… give me some time. And space. Not like before, I swear. I just need to think about this, and figure out how we can make this work.”

“I feel like you’re trying to make a distinction that just isn’t really there,” I said. Putting my hands up in defeat, I added, “But you know what? Fine. Go on. You’ll come back, though. You have every single time.”

“I’m not leaving,” he said. “Just… leaving for now. I’m literally just going to my room, packing my bags, and taking some time to gather my thoughts. That’s all.”

I shook my head. “Okay, okay. Just go. We’re just going to keep going around in circles and be even later for bus call if we keep talking about this.”

For possibly the first time ever, Taylor did what I told him to do. I got no satisfaction from that realization, though. Watching him turn and walk out of my hotel room hurt; it didn’t matter the reason why he was doing it or his vain attempts to assure me that he wasn’t walking out on me.

No matter which it really was, it felt the same.

Once Taylor was gone and the door was shut behind him, there was nothing else I could do but finish packing. I couldn’t sit and wallow. I had to just get on with my day. If I’d say around and felt sorry for myself, someone else would have no doubt come looking for me and I wouldn’t have had any explanation for myself. Like Taylor seemed to fear, it would only bring us one step closer to being discovered.

Of course I worried about that, too. I knew no one would understand. We were lucky that Seamus had, at least, decided to keep our secret, even though I doubted that he truly understood. What were the chances that anyone else who discovered us would be so kind? Slim to none. I wasn’t an idiot; I knew the risks we were taking. The difference, I supposed, was that I’d had long enough to realize that I wanted to take that risk. I _had_ to take that risk.

Right then, though, all I could do was lug my suitcase down to the lobby and pretend that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. A part of me wanted to stop my Taylor’s room and see if he was still there, but I knew we were already running late, and that wouldn’t accomplish anything anyway.

When I reached the lobby, everyone else—even Taylor—was already there, waiting for me. Having all of their eyes on me didn’t make me feel any better. I tried to focus as Machine ran through our schedule for the day, but I just couldn’t. The entire time, I could feel eyes on me. Taylor’s eyes. I risked a glance his direction and he gave me a tiny, cautious smile. What it meant, I didn’t know, but I couldn’t find it in myself to return it.


	27. Kiss

It rained all through our short drive to Idaho, but I didn’t care. I was in my own little world, sitting in the back of the bus playing video games. It was the only way I knew how to deal—just shut the rest of the world out. If everyone else wasn’t stuck on the bus with me, I would have lit up a bowl. Giving everyone a contact high didn’t seem like a great idea, though.

So I sat, turned my brain off as best I could and waited.

Multiple times, I reminded myself that we only had a few days left on this leg of the tour. It was only a minor reassurance. Sure, this had been the tour from hell. But I still recalled all too vividly what Taylor had done during our last break. I didn’t think I could handle an entire month away from him if he decided to pull that particular stunt again.

Ultimately, I decided that it wasn’t reassuring at all to remind myself that the tour was nearly over.

It was, at least, a busy day. There wasn’t far to travel, and after that, we had precious little time for anything aside from getting ready for the concert. If I couldn’t totally numb my brain, I could at least keep it so occupied with work that I had no time to worry over everything that Taylor might possibly do.

It was a rainy day, too. There was a long debate over whether or not the weather should delay or cancel our walk. Why those discussions seemed to cause more trouble than any of our musical disagreements, I would never understand. I hated it. Usually, I was the voice of reason, the calm one who settled debates between Isaac and Taylor. During this tour, though, I found myself too angry with Taylor to keep calm in any discussion. Being difficult was my one way of lashing out and staying sane, as strange as that sounds.

This time, though, I didn’t have the energy to join the debate at all. I didn’t care. I just did not care what we did. No matter how hard I tried to think of anything else, the only thing on my mind was what had happened with Taylor. I didn’t say a single word as Isaac and Taylor debated canceling the walk; even when they asked for my opinion, I offered them only a shrug. I knew it wasn’t helpful and I didn’t care.

Finally, the decision was made to cancel the walk. Fine by me. That meant more time to myself, at least. In theory that was alright, if I didn’t drive myself crazy with my paranoid thoughts. Once we parted ways, I decided that it was in my best interests to head back to the bus and smoke a bowl. Just one bowl. That would be enough to get me through the rest of the evening, I decided.

Thankfully, there was no one on the bus. That was exactly what I was counting on. I didn’t need to deal with anyone’s shit—anyone at all and least of all Taylor.

In blessed peace, I smoked my bowl. It only took a few hits before I felt the tension begin to melt away, my muscles relaxing and everything taking on that wonderful, blurry around the edges feeling. Just because I could, I played a few more games once I was sufficiently stoned. I didn’t see the need to rejoin the land of the living any sooner than absolutely necessary.

But eventually, I had to. When I knew it was time for the opening act to go on, I made my way back into the venue. Soon enough, people would be looking for me, I was sure. I didn’t realize until I started walking back into the busy backstage area just how stoned I was. I wondered if everyone else could tell.

I tried not to make eye contact with anyone, just in case. Luckily, they all seemed to be too busy with their work to really care about me. I’d done the majority of my job for the day; I didn’t _have_ to do anything else until our show started. And I certainly didn’t need to be sober until then. I wasn’t sure of the exact time, but I was pretty sure I had time for most of this buzz to wear off. I wasn’t worried.

I wandered around backstage, weaving aimlessly around the various people milling about, until I finally found myself in the green room. It was, to my surprise, fairly deserted. I supposed everyone was too busy to just sit around. Fine by me. I threw myself onto the couch and sunk down into it, planning to enjoy this high in peace.

Of course, that couldn’t last long.

When I heard the door open, I barely even opened one eye, not really caring who it was who had so rudely interrupted my personal time. It was, not surprisingly, Taylor. He just had a way of popping up not only when least expected, but when least wanted. That took a real talent, considering the fact that there really were very few times when I didn’t want Taylor.

“Napping before the show?” He asked.

I shrugged, and even that little movement seemed to take all the energy I had.

With a chuckle, Taylor flopped down on the couch next to me. His leg rested so close to mine that it made a chill run up my side, while at the same time, my leg seemed to be on fire just from being so close to him. It was a strange mixture of feelings, and I was so focused on it that I barely noticed Taylor’s face moving closer or the way he was sniffing the air around me.

“Are you stoned?” He asked.

I shrugged again. “Maybe. Yeah.”

“I thought so,” he replied, scooting a little closer. “That isn’t very nice, you know. Not to even ask if I wanted to join you, I mean.”

“Since when are you such a stoner?” I asked.

It was Taylor’s turn to shrug. “Since now, I guess. Maybe I just like doing… something with you. Spending a little time with you. Is that so bad?”

“No,” I replied, even though I could barely make sense of his words at all.

“Getting stoned before a show, though…” Taylor said, his voice soft and low. “That’s pretty bad. You might even say naughty.”

I rolled my eyes. “What are you gonna do about it, spank me?”

“Would you like that?” Taylor’s voice faltered a little, and I wasn’t sure if it was out of surprise or excitement.

“I was just kidding,” I replied.

“Oh,” he said, sounding strangely disappointed.

At least, that was how it sounded to me, but I wasn’t sure I could trust my own senses right then. I turned to face him, hoping his expression might give away his emotions, and was surprised at just how close he was. My nose practically bumped into his when I turned, and I drew back a little, almost dazed.

“W-what… what are you doing, Tay?”

He shrugged, but there was a hint of a smirk on his lips that said he knew exactly what he was doing. Before I could say anything else, he’d closed the already tiny gap between us, his lips pressing tightly against mine. I was powerless to refuse him. He tasted a little like cigarettes, but I was sure I tasted like pot, so it didn’t seem fair to complain. Smoke, the bitter taste of coffee and just a hint of caramel… that was just the way Taylor tasted, and it was quickly becoming my favorite flavor.

The spell he’d cast over me was broken quickly, though. Even through the haze of pot clouding my mind, I remembered that we were in public. I knew we’d taken risks before, but after his protests just that very morning, it made no sense for him to be so bold.

I nudged him away and willed my mouth to cooperate, to ask the questions I needed answered. Only one word came out. “Why?”

“Why what?” He asked. “Why am I kissing you? Haven’t we had this conversation already. Because I don’t… I don’t remember how not to.”

I knew exactly what he meant. In just a few words, he’d summed up everything I felt. Still, nothing about this encounter made sense in my mind. If he wanted space, why was he here, practically throwing himself at me?

“Zac?” Taylor asked softly. “Are you… are you alright?”

I nodded, then paused and shook my head instead. “I’m just confused. I don’t understand this at all.”

“What are you confused about?” He asked.

“First you tell me you love me. Then you tell me you need time and space. Now you’re here… just… well, just _here_.”

Taylor pulled back and frowned. “Then what do you want from me?”

“For you to be honest,” I replied. “And just… don’t do this if you only think it’s what I want. There might have been a time I thought that would make me happy, but not now. Just explain yourself. Why you keep changing your mind.”

“I’m not changing it. I’m just having a hard time. I told you.”

“You keep saying that, but I just don’t understand,” I replied.

Taylor heaved a sigh. “Can we talk about this when you’re sober?”

“Am I conscious? Am I capable of speaking without slurring my words? Then you can talk to me right fucking now.”

Taylor shook his head, sighed and stood up. “I told you I wasn’t running. I just needed to think. When did I say I didn’t want to still… still…”

“Still what?”

“Still _be_ with you.”

I stared blankly up at him. “Right here? Right now?”

“Yeah, maybe not the best time or place,” he admitted. “I still thought it would make you happy.”

“If I could make sense of it and be able to actually trust you—” I cut myself off then when I saw the immediate hurt in his eyes.

“You don’t trust me?”

“I didn’t…” I trailed off and sighed. There was no point denying it. I _didn’t_ trust him.

“Okay,” he said, backing away. “That’s fine. That’s probably what I deserve anyway.”

I sighed, but I couldn’t find the energy to stand up and make him stay. “Taylor, I’m sorry, I… I don’t know what I’m saying right now.”

“You know pot doesn’t make you lie, Zac. You said what you meant.”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated, even though I knew those two words wouldn’t make a difference at all.

I was right. They didn’t. Taylor still turned and walked out of the room, shaking his head. I wasn’t entirely sure how I’d managed to fuck this up so badly, except for seriously sticking my foot in my mouth. But I just didn’t _understand_. How could he say he wanted space, then turn around and start kissing me in the green room where anyone could walk in? After I thought we had finally made some real progress, he was still giving me mixed signals.

While I was lost in my own confusing thoughts, I didn’t even notice the green room door opening. As the room began to fill up, I was vaguely aware of other people around me, but I really didn’t care. None of them were Taylor, so none of them were of any concern to me. It was possible, too, that I was still a little high.

“You ready for the show?” Someone asked, and it actually took me a moment to place the voice. It was Isaac, I realized, staring up at his somewhat blurry form.

“Yeah.” No. No I wasn’t.

“Well, you better get ready,” he replied, obviously seeing right through my lies. In a slightly softer, more sympathetic tone, he added, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

The look on his face said that he saw through that lie, too, but he just walked away. Good. I didn’t have it in myself to get into another argument.

Maybe it was because I was still stoned, but nothing made sense to me at all. What did Taylor _want_ from me? He could say he wanted to be with me, but his actions didn’t show it—and neither did all of his words. Sometimes I wanted to hold him down and force the truth out of him, but I knew that even then I wouldn’t believe him. And coercion wasn’t the way to go. I’d tried that, hadn’t I? I’d pushed him around, shoved him against walls and beds and taken what I wanted.

But it wasn’t what I wanted, not really. I wanted his love. I wanted him. All of him. And that was something I didn’t think he ever would, or even could, give.


	28. Discovered

Not knowing what else to do, I ignored Taylor for the rest of the night. If he wanted space, I could give him space. But only just enough to make him realize it wasn’t truly what he wanted. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it seemed pretty cunning to me. How long I would have to keep it up or how well it would even work… I had no clue. But it was all I had.

We didn’t get a hotel that night. We slept in the bus and drove through the early morning to Utah. Being stuck in an inclosed space with Taylor didn’t really make it any easier to ignore him, but I gave it my best. On one hand, though, it did help to be surrounded by other people. Even if we were inevitably in close quarters with each other, there were too many other people around and nowhere to hide. We could never really be alone on a moving bus, and that was a huge relief.

It was strange to feel like I wanted to run from him. That was something entirely new that had really only happened during this tour. I blamed it on his hot and cold emotions; I could never trust that he would still want me even five minutes after he claimed he did. It made the few encounters we did have so much less meaningful.

Maybe I should have been content just to have sex with him and not worry about anything more than that. Somehow, though, I just couldn’t be. When it came to Taylor, sex alone just wasn’t enough.

To distract myself from all those pathetic thoughts, I roped a few of the guys into a big multiplayer game of Halo. That was a good way to stay distracted. The back lounge was full of loud voices and there was no time to think about anything but my next move in the game.

It was a long drive, though, and inevitably people tired of gaming. Some wandered off to sleep, since it was still early in the day, while others found books to read, instruments to tune—basically anything else they could think of to occupy their time. I wanted to be childish and demand that someone keep playing with me, but of course, I couldn’t. That would have just been silly, and there _was_ a limit to how selfish and childish I could be.

After a couple hours on the road, we stopped to stretch our legs, gas up and get something to eat. I contemplated not leaving the bus at all, just staying safe in my little cocoon in the back, but my rumbling stomach won that debate. It increased the chances of accidentally bumping into Taylor, but I couldn’t stay on the bus forever, hiding from him.

When I stepped off the bus, I was surprised by how cold it was. I supposed it shouldn’t have been such a shock. It was only late September, but we were high up in the mountain states where the weather always bothered me. At least I’d thought to wear a few layers, but it didn’t help much. I wrapped my arms around myself tightly, not even caring that I looked silly, and walked on into the truck stop.

I didn’t spend any more time than necessary browsing; I bought the first bag of chips and bottle of soda that caught my eye. It wasn’t a good meal, but I didn’t care. It would do. I hoped that if I rushed, I would have at least a little peace and quiet on the bus by myself before everyone else returned.

Like everything else in my life, it was just too much to hope for.

I was still shivering when I stepped onto the bus, and for once I didn’t mind that it was stiflingly hot inside.

“Cold?” Isaac asked, making me jump. I hadn’t even noticed that he was sitting just inside the bus at the small table.

I nodded. “Isn’t it supposed to be fall?”

“Apparently Utah didn’t get the memo,” Ike said.

“Yeah, well,” I replied. “I’d like to send them another memo, and I know right where they can stick it.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Someone’s in a bad mood.”

“Not really,” I replied with a shrug, flopping down on the couch. “Just… tired.”

It was a blatant lie, but luckily Isaac couldn’t see through my lies all that well. Not as well as Taylor often could, at least. He didn’t even bother pressing the issue any further; instead, he just opened up his book and dove back into it like I wasn’t even in the room anymore. It might have been a little rude, but it was a relief to me.

With the conversation over, I supposed it was time to eat my lunch, such as it was. I opened my bag of chips and dove in, even though I really didn’t have much of an appetite. I could fake it, though. If I smoked a quick bowl, I probably could have even forced an actual meal down my throat, but I didn’t think Ike would appreciate the contact high he would be bound to get.

I had only eaten a few chips when the bus door opened and the sound of laughter drifted in. My head snapped up, and I saw that Taylor was amongst the group filtering back in. His head was thrown back in laughter. He looked genuinely happy, and it made me sick.

He paused and gave me a look that I couldn’t quite place. The light in his eyes dimmed a little, but it was back just as quickly. It was back so fast, in fact, that I wondered if it had really ever vanished. Maybe I was just imagining things. He really did look happy, and I just couldn’t understand it. When I felt like I was dying inside, he was laughing and smiling.

Angrily, I crumpled up my bag of chips and stood up. I didn’t think I had been that loud, but my actions still seemed to catch the attention of everyone else. Ignoring them, I stormed off to the back of the bus. With my rage bubbling up inside like that, it wasn’t safe to stay around them. So I pulled a Taylor and ran. It was better than staying and fighting.

I’d barely done more than sit down in the back when I realized that Taylor was hot on my heels.

“What was all that about?” He asked.

“All what?” I replied, knowing I didn’t sound innocent at all.

“Just storming out of there… you can’t keep acting so suspicious, Zac.”

“Suspicious?” I repeated. Lowering my voice, I added, “There’s nothing suspicious about being in a bad mood. Kissing me in the green room when anyone could walk in.. that’s more than just suspicious.”

Taylor scowled. “Do I have to remind you what we did in the fucking bus shower?”

He had a point, and I hated him for it. We’d both acted rashly during this entire tour. When he angered me just as much as he turned me on, it was hard not to make stupid, spur of the moment decisions.

Because having one brother harass me wasn’t enough, Isaac appeared in the doorway, his brow furrowed. “What the fuck is wrong with you guys?”

We both stared at him blankly.

“Oh, come on,” he said. “You think I haven’t noticed? Really?”

As the blood seemed to drain out of Taylor’s face, and I was pretty sure I was going to pass out. I’d never fainted before, but it seemed like exactly what my body wanted to do right then. He knew?

“You guys have been at each others’ fucking throats this whole tour, and it’s pissing everyone off. Seriously. You’re driving us all crazy. I don’t know what the problem is, but you need to sort it out.”

Like that, the life came back to me. My heart slowed back to its normal rate and I remembered how to breathe. He knew something, sure, but not the one thing we both feared him finding out. Taylor still looked pale, and I wanted to touch him in some way, just to reassure him, but it didn’t seem safe at all. Besides, I still felt frozen on the spot.

Isaac didn’t even seem to notice our distress as he continued, “If I could just lock you guys in here until you fixed your shit, I would. But the way you’ve been acting, you’d probably just kill each other. And I _really_ don’t feel like trying to find a new drummer and pianist. So can you just… not? Just stop this.”

Before either of us could reply at all, he was gone.

“Did you hear that?” Taylor asked, still looking like a ghost. “He knows, Zac.”

“He doesn’t _know_ ,” I replied. “He just thinks there’s some… I dunno, he just thinks we’re fighting. He doesn’t know why.”

“Yeah, well, it’s only a matter of time before he figures that out.”

“You know,” I said. “You’re the last person in the world I would have expected to care so much about what people thought of him.”

Taylor scowled and crossed his arms. “This is different, and you know it. This isn’t just a few people mocking my clothes, or some close minded idiots voicing their opinions about things they don’t even know for sure. This is something that could ruin everything—not just for us, but for Ike, for our families… everyone and everything.”

“Do you think I’m an idiot, Tay?” I asked, practically spitting the words at him. “You think none of that has every occurred to me? Or is it possible, just maybe, that’s why I bottled this up and tried so hard to never let you know how I felt.”

Taylor took a tiny step closer to me, his scowl fading almost imperceptibly. “Is that really why you did it? Why you kept it a secret?”

“Part of it.” I shrugged, feeling more vulnerable than I really cared to be. “I mean, god, why would I ever think you felt the same way? You might have hated me if I’d ever told you.”

The sound of Taylor’s laughter took me by complete surprise. Glancing up, I saw a look of surprise and amusement on his face. I didn’t understand it at all.

“Zac,” he managed to gasp out between laughs. “I started all of this. Didn’t I? And you thought I wouldn’t want you too?”

“But did you _really_ want me, Tay? Did you lay in bed at night and think about me? Did you touch yourself thinking about me? Did you hate yourself for everything you felt?”

Taylor blinked. “I… no. No, I didn’t.”

“Then it’s not really the same, is it?”

“I didn’t say it was,” he replied, his voice so low that I could barely hear him at all.

“Then what _are_ you saying?” I asked.

“That… that…” He paused and sighed, finally looking up and meeting my eyes. “That it feels like you don’t even understand how big of a deal this is. I know I’ve been rash at times, too, but it just seems like… you just dismiss everything I’m worried about, and I don’t get it.”

I actually had to stop and think about that. It wasn’t often that Taylor said something that stopped me in my tracks rather than eliciting an obvious and immediately reaction—usually an angry one.

But this… this made me think. Why _did_ the two of us have such different views of our situation?

“I guess…” I began, even though I wasn’t sure where I was going. “I guess it’s because I’ve had so much longer to think about it. So much longer to adjust to it, to become desensitized to it. To wallow around in it and just… want it so bad that the consequences didn’t even matter. Have you ever felt anything like that?”

“No,” he admitted, taking another step closer to me. “Not until now. Maybe I haven’t felt it for as long, but… I still feel it. I do. I know I’m not good at showing it, but… you have to believe me, Zac. I do.”

Maybe it was a mistake to believe him, after he’d changed his mind and run away so much times. But right then, looking into Taylor’s eyes, I believed him. Something in his eyes, in his entire expression and demeanor, said that he was finally being honest. Better than anyone else, I knew the torture he was going through, and I knew it was hell. He deserved a little slack, I decided. I had been unfair, expecting him to so quickly not only understand what I felt, but feel exactly the same. He was on a learning curve, and I had to respect that.

“I do,” I replied. “I do believe you.”

“Good,” he replied, leaning in and closing the small distance between us.

I placed my hand on his chest and pushed him back. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think? Kissing you.”

“On the bus?” I asked.

Taylor shrugged. “Ike closed the door behind him. Maybe I’m ready to take a little risk for once, okay?”

As he leaned in again and pressed his lips to mine, I decided I didn’t have a problem with that at all.


	29. Sharing

Although Isaac was still clueless as to how the two of us had made up so quickly, things did remain peaceful for the rest of the drive to Salt Lake City, and even during the afternoon. I could breathe easier, somehow, even though I still wasn’t one hundred percent convinced that anything had truly changed.

I realized something, though. Few things changed overnight or in an instant. After years of our own separate, though different, tortures, how could I expect Taylor and I to fix everything about our relationship in the blink of an eye? It just wasn’t that sort of thing. Our relationship would be mended over time, in stops and starts. We would make progress, then seemingly undo it, only to finally, slowly, move forward again.

And it damn sure wasn’t going to be fixed in one tour, not even one that was about to end.

Salt Lake City was the second to last show of that leg of the tour, and last shows always had a different energy than first shows. Things were winding down. People were eager to go home, but also eager to put on the best possible show to end the tour. For the millionth time in just a few months, there was a shift in the energy of everyone on the tour, but this time, it was for the better.

If anyone had really known that it was because of me and Taylor, I can only imagine what they would have thought. Isaac still seemed suspicious, but seemed to think better of questioning the change.

The whole rest of the day went so smoothly and easily that it seemed to pass by in a blink. Once I stepped off stage, I couldn’t even recall a single thing about the concert I’d just played—only that I was certain it had gone really, really well. That was enough for me.

That seemed to be everyone’s opinion. As we made our way back to the bus, there was a big debate over whether or not to go out and celebrate. I was in a good mood, but not that good. I wouldn’t have minded just staying in the hotel I knew we were heading to once everything was packed up and all the fans had been properly greeted. I was, at least, in a good enough mood to go out and do some of that greeting myself.

When I finally made my way back onto the bus, Ike was sitting on the couch nursing a beer. “Well, you’re in a good mood now, aren’t you?”

“I guess so,” I replied with a shrug.

He stared me down for a moment, then gave a shrug of his own. “Whatever. As long as you guys aren’t punching each other out, I don’t really even care.”

“Good to know,” I replied.

I had a feeling if he knew the whole truth, he wouldn’t feel quite the same. I wasn’t about to let him in on that, though.

Soon, everyone else found their way back to the bus and we were off to the hotel. Once again, it was strange and awkward to be in an enclosed space with Taylor. After our conversation that afternoon, we hadn’t had any time alone. Even though I felt a shift in our relationship, however small, it was hard to be certain when I still had to keep my distance from him. I could only hope that he wouldn’t agree with the guys who wanted to go out and celebrate and I could perhaps sneak into his hotel room.

The hotel was only a short drive from the venue, so it was only a matter of minutes before everyone was swept up in the inevitable flurry of activity that accompanied unloading the bus and making ourselves at home for the night. Everyone seemed even more scattered than usual, and Machine didn’t even bother trying to herd us all together to hand out the key cards. In all the bustle, I couldn’t even _find_ him to get my own.

“Hey,” Taylor said, waving a key card at me as I stood in the lobby, no doubt looking lost and confused. “I got our card. We’re sharing tonight.”

“We are?”

He shrugged, the tiniest hint of a smirk crossing his lips. “Yeah, I mean… if you don’t mind.”

Anyone who paid any attention to the way I scrambled to follow Taylor to the elevator would surely have laughed, and then wondered what the hell was going on. I really didn’t care, though. I had Taylor to myself, and for once, I was certain things were going to be okay.

I didn’t even remember the last time we’d actually shared a hotel room, aside from the few nights he’d spent with me during this tour. We shared a lot when we were younger, sometimes cramming all three of us into one bed when we couldn’t get enough rooms for everyone. Once we all started having girlfriends, boyfriends, or just “friends” spend the night, we started getting separate rooms, and the habit stuck even when only Isaac had a significant other who regularly joined him on tour. Sharing a room with Taylor again felt weird, but a good weird. We fell into an old familiar routine as we made ourselves at home in the room—him going straight to the bathroom to take out his contacts while I collapsed on the bed practically before I’d even set my overnight bag down.

This felt good. This felt _normal_.

Despite my feelings for Taylor, things hadn’t always been that bad throughout the years. Sometimes I could even ignore them enough to just be normal… just be brothers. This felt like that, but… different. I wasn’t ignoring those feelings, nor was I fighting with them. They just _were_.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Taylor asked, flopping down on the bed next to me.

I shrugged. “Nothing. Just… I’m glad we’re sharing a room. How girly does that sound?”

“I’m not really one to judge,” he replied with a snort.

“No, you’re not,” I said, tugging on the end of his scarf to punctuate my statement.

Taylor eyed me strangely, his lips turning up in a smirk that sent a definite chill down my spine. “Whatcha doing now, Zac?”

I shrugged. “I dunno… maybe _you_?”

“No,” Taylor replied. “I think you’ve got that backward.”

I let out a loud laugh at that, then grabbed his scarf again and pulled him closer to me. Our lips met again, and it felt like only a matter of minutes, not hours, since the last time we were able to share a kiss. I tried not to think about how often we’d have to go without if we really tried to see this thing through. I didn’t want to think about how hard this would be. I just wanted _him_.

It didn’t take long for Taylor to prove that he meant what he said. He rolled me onto my back, pinning me down to the bed with his body. It was strange, but I didn’t really mind turning over control to Taylor this time. It was just another sign that something had changed between us.

And he was _definitely_ taking control.

In only a matter of seconds, he’d moved from kissing me to trailing his lips down my neck and yanking at my clothes. Who was I to refuse him? Even though I was still pinned underneath him, I did my best to remove my clothes. While I struggled with my pants, Taylor stood up and began tearing at his own clothes. Now that we were finally alone, finally sharing a room, it seemed silly to rush so much, but I didn’t think either of us were capable of slowing down. There was just too much need, too much built up desire.

“In my bag,” I gasped out, unable to even resist touching myself a little just at the sight of Taylor. “T-the… the outside pocket.”

Taylor blinked, then realization washed over him and he dove upon my overnight bag, retrieving my lube. Once he had it in his hand, he climbed back onto the bed, looking positively predatory as he crawled toward me. It was the best thing I’d ever seen.

He brushed my hand away, but took his sweet time lubing up a few of his fingers. I knew he was trying to tease me, and it was working. It was absolute torture. When he finally descended on me, slipping a finger inside at the same moment that his tongue touched my dick, I thought I would just explode right then. Thankfully, I didn’t, but I was definitely resting on the edge of the cliff, ready to fall over at any moment. Taylor knew it, too, so he was slow and teasing, never taking me any closer to the release I needed.

He was _evil_. And yet, somehow, I didn’t mind at all. It was good to finally slow down and enjoy this. It was good not to rush and fear being discovered.

At least, in theory it was. In practice, I was pathetic and needy, and it wasn’t long before I was panting, moaning and practically begging.

“Tay… please.” More than practically, really. My voice was little more than a whine. “Just… please, come on. Don’t make me wait.”

With a tiny chuckle, he pulled back and glanced up at me. His fingers slowed their movements only slightly, driving me all the more crazy. After a moment, he shook his head and gave me a more serious look. “No more waiting. Promise.”

I wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but I had a feeling it was more profound than I really felt like dealing with when I was so close to getting laid. I could worry about asking his meaning later, perhaps not even until the morning. Right then, I just wanted his body, not his words.

Finally, Taylor crawled up my body until we were face to face. He planted a gentle kiss on my lips, then another. His kisses were in stark contrast with the way he thrust into me all at once, but I didn’t mind. It only made each feeling more intense. I did, however, grab his face and hold him down, forcing him to kiss me more deeply. I was, after all, pathetic and needy. I accepted this fact readily.

If I was pathetic and needy, though, so was Taylor. He moaned so loudly that I couldn’t help worrying if the room next door would notice. Luckily we’d somehow gotten a room away from the rest of our crew. As the headboard banged against the wall and my moans joined Taylor’s, I couldn’t help wondering if he’d arranged that on purpose.

Soon those thoughts, along with all others, were erased from my mind entirely. I could think of nothing but how amazing Taylor felt inside of me and how perfectly his hand knew how to work my dick. Of course he knew exactly how to play my body—he was my brother, after all. He knew me inside and out, for better or worse. Sure, most brothers probably didn’t know the sort of things we knew about each other, but it made perfect sense that someone so close to me in every way would be the only person to make me feel this good.

It might have been sick and twisted to rationalize it that way, but I really didn’t care. Something that felt this good couldn’t be wrong. And if it was… well, I really didn’t care.

We moved in sync, my body arching up to meet Taylor’s every move for I don’t know how long. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours. The former seemed more likely, but that didn’t make it any less satisfying. Even in the few times we’d been together, I had learned how to read Taylor. I knew the very moment he was about to come just by the slight change in his moans, and I urged him to go faster, harder. He obliged, and in seconds, our moans reached a peak and we both came.

He collapsed on top of me and lay there for a long time. I held him tightly and listened to his breathing as it slowly returned to normal. If I could have just held him like that forever and never let him go, I would have.

That wasn’t really practical, though, so when Taylor complained about being sticky, I let go. I still didn’t feel the need to move myself. I only moved as much as absolutely necessary to clean myself off with the towel Taylor brought back into the room for me. Then, like the pathetic girly man I was, I held out my arms and beckoned Taylor to crawl back into them. To my surprise, he did.

Once he’d settled into my arms, he let out a sigh and asked, “Do you think we’re okay now?”

“Okay?” I repeated. “Honestly, I think we’re really fucked up… together or separately. But I think… I think I know what you mean. And I hope we can be.”

“I hope so, too,” he replied.

There was so much more than I wanted to say, but before I could find the right words, I heard Taylor’s gentle snores. I didn’t really mind, though. For once, I wasn’t dying to scream at him, or even talk to him. For once, it felt like maybe we had finally said enough.


	30. Relationship

We slept in late the next day, and it was glorious. With no concert to play, and no bus call until later that afternoon, there was no reason to pull ourselves from bed until we absolutely couldn’t sleep any longer.

As I lay there, listening to Taylor’s soft breathing, I realized this sort of morning was going to be very rare for us. Even though we had, it seemed, reached a point where he wasn’t going to run off as soon as he could, we still couldn’t be a normal couple, one who shared a house, a bed… a life. No, that was wrong. We _did_ a share life, but these stolen moments together would still be unusual.

We might be _okay_ , but our relationship—if we ever even called it that—would never be normal.

That somehow seemed fitting, though. We weren’t normal guys with normal lives. Isaac was the romantic; it made sense for him to settle down. But me and Taylor? We weren’t the marrying type. No one expected that of either of us, for different reasons. It played in our favor, in a way. I couldn’t even remember the last time anyone questioned the fact that I was perpetually single.

The only problem, of course, was that we could never acknowledge our… thing… publicly. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to; I was, after all, a very private person. But the thought of never being able to truly acknowledge this relationship… it did cause this strange pang of regret in my chest.

I must have actually sighed out loud at that thought, because suddenly Taylor stirred next to me. He blinked a few times, obviously struggling to bring me into focus without the aid of contacts or glasses.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice still a little hoarse and deep with sleep.

“Mhm,” I replied. “Just… thinking.”

“Don’t do that. You’ll hurt yourself.” He yawned.

I smirked. “That sounds like the voice of experience.”

“I guess it is,” he replied, yawning again. After stretching a little, he asked, “Seriously, though, what were you thinking about? Isn’t it too early to think?”

“Just a little bit, I suppose.”

Taylor stretched again, looking more like a cat in his movements than a person. “I can’t even consider thinking before I’ve had some coffee.”

“Let’s go get some coffee, then,” I replied with a weak smile.

For fear of causing more waves, I really didn’t want to bother him with my thoughts. Things were good, maybe as good as they were ever going to be. Why mess with that?

The suggestion of coffee was enough to distract Taylor, though. Just at the thought of it, he sprang out of bed as though he’d already had a triple shot. He was in and out of the shower quickly, and I followed afterward, deciding that showering together would slow us down more than it would speed us up. Plus, I didn’t think it would get us very clean.

In near record time, we were out of the hotel and on the street in search of a Starbucks. I was convinced that Taylor had a sixth sense for coffee shops. Sure enough, it took him only a matter of minutes to find some small local cafe, which he assured me would be far better than Starbucks anyway. It didn’t matter to me; I was just going to get a mocha. Nothing special like the long, elaborate order that Taylor rattled off.

The cafe was fairly empty, and we had plenty of free time, so we found a table in a secluded corner to enjoy our drinks. Taylor actually _moaned_ when he took the first sip of his grande whatever. It was a sound I didn’t think even I had been able to draw out of him, and I was a little jealous. I’d hoped the drink would keep him distracted from my thoughts, but of course, Taylor was stubborn. He wouldn’t drop a subject that easily.

“So,” he said, wiping a bit of foam off his lip. “What were you thinking about?”

I sighed. “Just… this whole thing between us.”

“Don’t you dare tell me you’re having second thoughts now. You are not _even_ allowed. Not after… not after I finally became okay with this.”

“N-no….” I stuttered out, surprised by the forcefulness in Taylor’s voice. “I’m not backing out. I can’t. I was just thinking about… well, all the… ramifications of it, I guess you could say.”

“So, the same things I’ve been worried about?”

I shrugged. “Yes and no.”

Taylor sat his drink down and leaned forward on his elbow, all of his attention focused on me. It was a little unnerving. “So, what is it, then?”

“I guess… just the whole having to keep it secret thing. We’ll never be normal. We’ll never have a normal relationship. I mean, assuming this is even…”

“A relationship?” Taylor finished for me.

I nodded, fearing I’d said far too much.

“What else would you call it?”

I snorted. “Oh, I’m sure some people could think of lots of things to call it.”

“But what do _you_ want to call it?”

“Don’t ask me that,” I replied.

Taylor shrugged. “Have it your way. But I don’t know what else to call it besides a relationship. And Zac… you know we gave up normal a long time ago. We’ve never had a normal relationship with anyone else, so why would we have one with each other?”

It was a strange way to think about it, but somehow, it almost made sense.

Taylor just sat back and sipped his drink, looking positively smug. He knew he’d beaten me, somehow. I didn’t understand it myself, but with just a few sentences, he’d set aside my fears. Maybe it was the way he seemed so certain of himself. That was new, and I decided that I liked it, even if it was a strange power shift in our relationship.

I had a feeling it wouldn’t be the first of those. We were brothers, after all. We knew each others’ strengths and weaknesses like no one else. We could tear each other apart, as we’d proven over the course of this tour… but we could put each other back together, too.

We sat in the coffee shop for a long time, both of us eventually going back for second drinks and sandwiches to go with them. We’d slept in so long that it was really lunch by the time we made it out of the room, anyway. Bus call was late enough that afternoon that we weren’t in any sort of hurry at all. We finally had time to just sit, relax and get to know each other again. It was… refreshing.

It hurt to think about how long we had been so close and yet so far away. Sure, I considered him my best friend all along, but how well did we _really_ know each other? We might as well have been strangers, in a lot of ways, yet it was liking coming home to an old friend as we sat there and talked.

All too soon, though, Taylor’s phone chimed with a text from Bex, letting us know that we were dangerously close to being late for bus call. How we’d managed to waste hours upon hours in the same spot, just talking, I really didn’t know. I didn’t want to stop, but we had to.

Reluctantly, we abandoned the little sanctuary we’d found in the coffee shop and made our way back to the hotel. Even though we didn’t walk any closer or hold hands, it still felt like we were leaving a date. I liked it. I wondered if Taylor felt it, too, but I didn’t ask. From the smile he shot me as we walked along, I had a feeling that he did.

By the time we made it back to the hotel, it became obvious that Bex wasn’t exaggerating; we really were running late. The bus had been pulled around to the front of the hotel, and even from several yards away we could see that it was buzzing with activity, all the various members of our band and crew loading their things up in preparation to hit the road again. How had we managed to waste that much time just sitting in a coffee shop? But it wasn’t a waste. It had been something good, something we needed. Even if it got us bitched out for delaying the travel schedule, I wouldn’t have taken it back.

Ignoring the shouts and complaints of everyone who apparently really had been bothered by our lateness, we made our way into the hotel and hurried to pack our things. It didn’t take long. We hadn’t been in the hotel long, nor we had bothered to really make ourselves at home during that short time. It took us only a matter of minutes to toss our scattered belongings back into our bags and head back to the lobby to turn in our key cards.

Everything just seemed to be going so _smoothly_. It felt good, but it also worried me. Surely something was going to come along to ruin it. Wasn’t that how my life worked?

We were, not surprisingly, the last people onto the bus. Bex practically shoved us through the bus doors, grumbling the entire time about our irresponsibility. She could be scary when she wanted, but it still did nothing to wipe the smiles off our faces. Even that little bit of worry in the back of my mind just faded away when I saw Taylor smiling and laughing—a real, genuine laugh like I hadn’t heard from him a long time.

“What is _wrong_ with you guys?” Ike asked from his seat on the bus couch.

We glanced at each other, then back at him, and shrugged. The fact that our movements were practically synchronized sent us into another round of laughter, and that only made Isaac narrow his eyes even more.

“Are you guy stoned?” He asked. “I swear to god, if you guys were smoking out the hotel window or something…”

Taylor held up a hand. “We’re not high. Jesus. It’s just been a good day, alright? Nice weather, nice little cafe near the hotel… just a good day. Right, Zac?”

“Right,” I replied, giving Taylor a huge smile.

Isaac shook his head, still clearly not buying our explanation. He eyed us for a moment, as though he could somehow see the truth on our faces if he looked close enough. Just when his glare was staring to make me nervous, he shrugged and looked away. “Alright, whatever. Let’s just hit the road.”

And that was that.

Moments later, the bus grumbled to life and its inhabitants made themselves at home for the drive. Some people laid down to nap, while others found some small task to keep themselves busy. I settled in to play a video game, and Taylor surprised me by taking a seat nearby. He pulled out a book, but I still caught the little glances he gave me over the top of it.

I wondered if he knew how reassuring those little glances were. Even in a bus full of other people, we could share a little moment. We were connected. Unlike earlier, when being cooped up on a crowded bus with him seemed like torture, now it wasn’t so bad. We were still together, almost in our own little world.

It gave me hope that maybe this hidden relationship wouldn’t be so bad.


	31. Last

The last concert of the tour.

Okay, not the _entire_ tour. Just this leg. But I couldn’t help remembering how badly the last leg had ended and that made this concert more than a little bittersweet.

But it wouldn’t end the same way, right? It couldn’t.

The audience seemed to have a good energy to it, though. That was a good sign, but I still felt like I was resting on a knife’s edge. I supposed I would always feel that way; this thing with Taylor would never truly reach a point where I could rest easily, even if we were reasonably happy. And right then, we were.

The venue was small and crowded, though. The chance of Taylor and I being alone at all that night seemed practically nonexistent. On top of that, the thought of the long drive back to Tulsa made me feel incredibly suffocated. In a lot of ways, it was easier when I was just suffering alone. That was torture, sure, but there never seemed to be any real hope of it turning out the way that I wanted. Now, I was so close but still so far. We could be right next to each other, but if other people were around, we might as well be miles apart.

I knew I was being silly, though. This _was_ better, so much better. It might not be easy, but having Taylor, being able to really think of him as mine… nothing could compare to that.

It might have been torture at times, but we would survive it. We had to.

In spite of my worries and anxieties, I was in a pretty good mood. I was starting to wonder if I really remembered how to just be happy without letting other thoughts drag me back down. During the few stolen moments I had with Taylor, though, I was happy. I wasn’t sure there was any other time, except when I was behind my drum set, when I could really say that.

But right then, during the first few minutes of the last concert of the tour, I was genuinely happy. I stood by the side of the stage, listening to the opening act for what felt like the first time. I hadn’t thought their music was really my style, but I hadn’t cared enough to get involved in the opening act choosing process. After everything with Seamus, I would have been perfectly happy having no opening act. But these guys weren’t bad. Or maybe I was just happier and more open to enjoying things. It could have been a little of both, really.

They were on their third song when I felt two strong hands on me—one on my arm and the other on my waist. It was a personal, intimate sort of touch, so I knew immediately it was Taylor. That didn’t stop me from jumping and letting out a little yelp at the sudden contact, though.

“Tay!” I hissed out. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Shh, just be quiet,” he replied, gripping my waist tighter.

Before I could respond to that, he was yanking me back from the side of the stage, pulling me into one the dark hidden corners of the venue. My heart was pounding so loudly that I was pretty sure anyone around could have heard it even if they didn’t see us.

But it was Taylor. I couldn’t refuse him. As long as he wanted me, I would let him drag me anywhere.

Once we were hidden in the corner, far away from the stage lights so that I could barely even make out Taylor’s face in the darkness around us, he brushed his lips against mine. It was a strange contrast with the way he was still holding me tightly, and it only took a moment for me deepen the kiss, my tongue swirling around his like it was the best thing I’d ever tasted. Honestly… it probably was. I could think of few tastes, or _things_ in general, that compared to Taylor.

In the lull between songs, we heard footsteps and quickly pulled away from each other. Even though we were relatively hidden, the chance of discovery was still high. It always would be. We would always have to be on guard for it. But that little taste of Taylor reminded me why it was worth it.

Once we both remembered how to breathe, and saw that the threat had passed, we slipped out of our hiding place—separately, of course, because it wouldn’t hurt to be extra cautious. Taylor left first, and I followed behind only a moment later. When I found him again, he was sipping a soda in the green room as though nothing had happened at all. As I approached, though, he gave me the tiniest wink, so tiny that I almost wasn’t even convinced it was real.

So this was our life now. Sneaking around constantly, always looking over our shoulders… but happy. I could live with that.

I was so busy watching Taylor and thinking about our situation that I hardly even noticed that Ike was in the room until he spoke. “You guys seem happy lately.”

Taylor nearly choked on his soda, so I could see it would be up to me to answer.

“Yeah,” I replied. “I uh, I guess so.”

“Well, that’s good. You’ve been fighting too much during this tour. I’m glad you worked things out.”

 _Me too_. He really had no clue, though, and I was determined to keep it that way. There was no way we could ever make Isaac understand this thing between us.

“What was all that fighting about, anyway?”

Taylor and I glanced at each other, then back at Isaac, and shrugged. That seemed to be our trademark reply to his questions these days.

“I don’t even remember,” I replied. “Just stupid shit, I guess.”

Taylor nodded. “I think you could say… we finally figured out what was important.”

Even though it said nothing at all, Isaac seemed to buy that empty explanation. With a thoughtful nod, he turned away and busied himself with his phone. I gave Taylor a smile, and even knowing that it was a huge risk, reached for his arm and squeezed it. It wasn’t as risky as grabbing his hand, but I didn’t really see us as the sort of couple that held hands. It was strange enough to think of us as a real _couple_ at all, even after wanting him for years.

When that want had gone from something purely physical to something emotional too, I really didn’t know. The last few days had certainly shown that it had, though. But I had a feeling it happened long before that. He was, after all, my brother. How could it _not_ be emotional? It couldn’t ever be all romantic, with candy and roses and whatnot, but it could still be this deep thing, this feeling that lived way down inside of me—of _us_.

Taylor made no move to shake my hand off. Instead, he shot a quick glance in Isaac’s direction, then turned back to me and smirked. I followed his gaze and saw that Isaac was entirely distracted. When I turned back to him and saw that smirk again, I had a feeling that I knew exactly what Taylor was thinking. We still had a little bit of time before our set began; we could easily slip away together while Ike was off in his own little world.

And so we did.

Somehow, no one seemed to notice or pay that much attention to us as we made our way around the venue, looking for a hidden little place. We finally settled on a small bathroom no one else seemed to be using in an awkward corner. That was good enough for our purpose. I practically shoved Taylor into the room and hurried to lock the door behind us.

The lock had barely finished clicking into place when Taylor descended on me, his lips latching onto mine like he was trying to anchor himself. I couldn’t resist him or push him away; I could only kiss him back with the same force and intensity.

Finally, though, we both had to come up for air.

“Did you mean what you said back there?” I asked. I hadn’t planned on saying it, but the words fell out of my mouth anyway.

Taylor blinked. “What did I say?”

“Something about, umm, what’s… important?” I blushed as I said it. It felt stupid to ask. I sounded like such a girl.

“Oh,” Taylor replied. “Well, yeah. What else could I say?”

I frowned. “So you… you didn’t mean it?”

“No… of course I meant it,” Taylor said. “I mean, I didn’t plan it. I just said something to get him off our backs without telling him the truth, but… yeah, I guess I did mean it. We finally figured out… what we mean to each other, right?”

“Yeah,” I replied, giving him a small smile. “I guess we did.”

That was as close to any sort of big romantic declaration that I figured we would ever get, but that was more than okay with me.

We were better with physical stuff, really. Which is why I decided not to continue this sappy conversation and instead dropped to my knees in front of Taylor. I didn’t really care that this bathroom probably wasn’t very clean. All I cared about was Taylor. He backed himself up against the wall as I hurried to yank his pants and underwear down. He was already half-hard, and it took only a few quick strokes to bring him to his full length before I put my mouth on him.

It was rushed and sloppy, but Taylor didn’t seem to mind. His moans were as loud as they ever were, and I had the realization that it was going to be difficult to make it through the concert with the echo of his moans ringing in my ear. There wasn’t time for both of us to get off, though, and I decided to be nice and let Taylor go first.

With one hand cupping his balls and the other digging into his thigh, it didn’t take long at all for me to get Taylor off. His head thumped hard against the wall as he cried out, a warm stream of his come shooting into my mouth. I swallowed it all, even taking the time to give him a few more licks, leaving him actually writhing between me and the wall.

I pulled back to catch my breath while Taylor struggled to shove himself back into his pants. We were both shaking so much, caught in the afterglow, that I began to think it wasn’t such a good idea to fool around before a concert. That thought passed quickly and was easily discarded.

Finally, I pulled myself back to my feet and gave Taylor a sloppy kiss. “What do you think? New pre-show ritual?”

Taylor chuckled weakly. “I don’t think so. But promise me one of those after every concert and I’ll put on the best shows of my entire life.”

“Deal,” I replied, giggling. “If you give me one, too.”

Taylor nodded solemnly. “Absolutely.”

The promise of being with Taylor after every show… it was easily the best idea I’d ever heard.


	32. Shaing

After the last concert, we had a long drive back to Tulsa. Everyone agreed to split the drive across two days to give us a little time to unwind. Two more days away from home didn’t sound great, but it did sound nice to be able to relax. Even if you weren’t driving, hours and hours on the road took a serious toll.

The halfway point of the drive was somewhere in the middle of nowhere Kansas at an exit that was little more than a motel and a few fast food restaurants. I didn’t even see anything resembling a city or town, but we were halfway home and it was getting late, so it seemed as good a place as any to stop.

I was in such a good mood that I volunteered to pick up a late dinner for everyone at the McDonald’s next to the motel while the room reservations were being taken care of. It was a lot to carry back on my own, but I didn’t really mind. Not everyone had given me an order anyway; the grumpier members of the crew just wanted to sleep, I think.

By the time I made it back to the hotel lobby with my haul, some of the room cards appeared to have been doled out, but plenty of our group was milling about, practically filling up the entire room. I commandeered the room’s only table and began handing out the orders, hoping everyone got what they wanted.

I had just unwrapped my own burger when Taylor wandered over and stood just a little closer to me than was strictly necessary. With a smile, he said, “I got our key card. We’re sharing again.”

“Oh, and what makes you think I want to share with _you_?” I asked, then giggled at the look of offense that crossed Taylor’s face.

“If you don’t share with me, then you won’t be getting—” Taylor cut himself off, slamming his mouth shut as Ike walked up and began digging through one of the few remaining McDonald’s bags.

“What’s up, guys?” He asked, not even looking up at us.

“Nothing,” I replied quickly. Maybe too quickly. It definitely sounded suspicious, and Ike’s slight eyebrow raise said that he caught the weirdness.

“Okay, well… see you guys later, I guess,” he said, finally settling on a bag that seemed to contain his order. “You guys sharing again? Rooms were pretty short, so I know a bunch of us had to double up.”

“Yeah, we are,” Taylor replied, sounding only slightly less suspicious than I had. I decided right then and there that we really needed to work on seeming less guilty.

Isaac stared back and forth between the two of us as he munched on a french fry. “Is everything alright? I really can’t handle more of your fighting. My nerves can’t take it. Are you guys trying to turn me into an alcoholic or something?”

We both laughed nervously. When it become obvious that all Taylor was going to do was laugh, I replied, “Everything’s fine. You ought to be happy we’re getting along.”

“Happy, sure,” he said. “But also confused. This is kinda new.”

“But it’s a good new, right?” I prodded.

“Yeah…” He stared back and forth at us a few more times. “Whatever, just… keep things this way. This is good.”

Once Ike finally gave up on figuring us out and wandered away, I leaned in closer to Taylor and said, “He’s right… this is good. I like this.”

“I do too,” Taylor replied, but he sounded like he had drifted far away.

His eyes had that vacant look that I knew meant he was trying to think, and I never liked it when he thought. Lately the only conclusions he came to were ones that weren’t good for me. I gave him a little nudge toward the door. “Come on, let’s get our stuff and go on up to our room.”

Taylor nodded, but I could still tell he wasn’t entirely with me. He still seemed to be drifting out in space as we gathered up our bags and found our room for the night. It wasn’t much, but that was alright. We didn’t need to, and definitely _didn’t_ , stay in five star hotels every single time. For just one night before hitting the road, this room would be just fine. It had a bed I could share with Taylor; what more did I need?

Once we were inside the room, we shifted into our bedtime routine. I kicked off my shoes and flopped down onto a bed with my bag of food while Taylor wandered off to the bathroom. I heard the faucet turn on and I yelled out that if he didn’t hurry, I would eat his burger too. Taylor didn’t reply.

I hoped he wasn’t having second thoughts again, but something about this felt different. I didn’t really know what he was thinking at all. I knew we needed to get better at talking about that sort of thing—feelings and all that. It wasn’t easy to talk about feelings with anyone, but it was especially weird with my _brother_. That was something we would both have to get over if we were going to make this work.

I resolved to make an attempt once he had finished getting ready for bed, but when he walked back into the room and began stripping off his clothes, it was hard to think about anything at all. I willed myself to stop drooling as I watched him shed his t-shirt and jeans before finally climbing into bed next to me.

“You better have left me some food,” Taylor said, snatching up one of the bags.

I chuckled. “Don’t worry, I did.”

Right then, we seemed okay. I knew better than to let myself relax before we had talked, though.

“So,” I said. “Umm, I was just… I mean, are you aright?”

Taylor tilted his head to the side. “Why wouldn’t I be alright?”

“I dunno,” I replied with a shrug. “Just… you know, the stuff with Ike in the lobby. Just everything between us and, you know, trying to keep it secret.”

“Well, we _have_ to keep it secret, don’t we? So what’s there to think about?”

I sighed. This wasn’t going how I wanted at all, and I feared Taylor was growing angry with me. “That’s not what… I just wanted to know how you felt. If you’re gonna freak out again, I want some warning. I wanna know what I can do to keep you from just shutting down and running away again.”

“Have I shut down and run away?” He asked.

“Well…”

“I’m still here, Zac,” he said softly.

And he was. I had been so paranoid myself that I didn’t really stop to appreciate the fact that even though he clearly was freaking out a little inside, he hadn’t let that panic take over. He was still here, still with me.

“I’m not saying it isn’t… still kinda crazy and scary. It is. But I’m here, and I’m trying really hard to stay here. It’s gonna be tough, especially… well, I mean, people are still talking about those pictures. So it’s good that we’ll have a little break, I think. Time to breathe.”

I nodded. “Time to just be together. Hide out. Be hermits.”

“Get stoned,” Taylor added, smirking.

“I figured that part was implied.”

Taylor chuckled and nudged me. “Seriously, though. I know this is all… probably really fucked up, but at the same time, I just feel… right. You know?”

“Yeah,” I replied. “Like something I’ve been missing for a long time, that I didn’t really even understand entirely what was missing… is finally mine. Like a part of me is finally mine.”

“That was… actually kind of eloquent, Zac,” Taylor said.

I pouted. “I can be sometimes.”

“I know, I know,” he replied, laughing softly. “And I feel exactly the same way.”

We lapsed into silence then, focusing mostly on eating our food and trying to find something to watch on the room’s meager selection of channels. We ended up with some Law and Order re-run but not because either of us was really interested in watching it. I think we just had too much energy to just fall asleep then, residual energy from the tour still coursing through our bodies.

Eventually, though, we gave in to the pull of sleep. With the television still playing, we curled up under the covers, our bodies fitting together like we’d been sleeping with each other for ages. Just as I reached for the lamp beside the bed, Taylor cleared his throat.

“Zac, there’s just… I mean, it’s not a big deal, but there was one thing I’ve kinda been thinking about…”

That was never a good sign.

“Relax,” he said, rubbing my back. “It’s just a question. That’s all.”

“Okay, then ask it,” I said, trying not to sound as nervous as I felt.

“It’s just… well, why did you kiss Seamus?”

I had to laugh, partly because that was so much better than anything I might have imagined that he wanted to talk about, and because I was ashamed of myself for doing it. Once I got my nervous laughter under control, I replied, “Honestly, I just… that was a pretty low point for me, you know? I just wanted to make you jealous. It was as simple as that. I was angry and I lashed out the only way I could think of. The worst part is that I really just wanted to see who you would be more jealous of… me or Seamus.”

“Well, the truth is… I wasn’t sure,” Taylor replied softly.

I nodded. That had been what I thought, but even as it was all happening, I knew how awful I was for doing it. Over the last few months, I’d turned into someone I really didn’t like. I hated to blame Taylor for it, though. All these awful, jealous thoughts were in me and had been in me for years. Lately, though, I felt more like myself again.

With a sigh, I said, “I’m sorry I did it, though.”

Taylor just shrugged. “You accomplished what you set out to do, I guess.”

“I guess,” I replied. “I know it’s totally different, but can I ask why _you_ kissed him? The other day, I mean.”

“Of course you can,” he said, then sighed. “It wasn’t like I planned it. I didn’t call or him or anything, and I didn’t know he was going to be there. I think it was a spur of the moment thing. He just said he missed me, that was all. And I… I mean, I missed him, too. I missed having a normal relationship. I know that sounds bad, because believe me, I want this. But I wanted to want him. Does that make sense?”

It sounded convoluted and strange, but it did make sense. It was a perfect example of Taylor-logic, but I understood it. I nodded and said, “Yeah, it does. But you want this—you mean _me_?”

“Yes, Zac,” he replied, giggling. “I want you. How many times do I have to say it?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe try a few more and just see how many it takes?”

Taylor laughed louder and pinched my side.

“Ouch!” I cried, pouting. “Seriously, though… I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing that. And knowing you really mean it.”

“I never _didn’t_ mean it,” he replied. “It just took me a while to accept it.”

“I know,” I said, cutting him off with a quick kiss before he could take the conversation in a depressing direction. “Let’s get some sleep, okay?”

Taylor nodded and snuggled in closer to me. If that was my reward for having a normal, adult conversation with him, then I decided it was something I was going to have to do even more often.


	33. Changed

It was strange to go from the hustle and bustle of tour to a more relaxed sort of travel schedule. At first, the difference didn’t seem all that obvious; you were still on a bus or in a hotel, still in transit from one place to the next.

The difference didn’t really become apparent until you woke in the morning under your own power. No one was banging down your door or blowing up your cell phone. You just woke up when you woke up. It was disconcerting at first, waking up in silence and realizing you were free to go back to sleep.

That day, I woke to see bright light streaming in through the blinds we had forgotten to close, so I knew it was fairly late in the morning. Taylor was still curled up beside me, snoring softly, like a kitten purring, against my neck. He really was adorable, even when he wasn’t conscious. Maybe he was _more_ adorable then, because there was less chance of something stupid coming out of his mouth.

I watched him shamelessly for a few minutes, not caring how pathetic I looked since Taylor didn’t know and no one else was around to see. When he finally began to stir, I slammed my eyes shut and pretended to be asleep.

“Come on, I know you’re awake,” Taylor said, covering my face with sloppy kisses.

I tried to keep my composure, but I couldn’t hold out for long. When Taylor’s lips touched a sensitive spot on the side of my neck, a giggle fell from my lips all on its own.

“I knew you were faking,” Taylor said, giggling.

“Yeah, yeah,” I replied, giving him a playful nudge. “What time is it?”

He shrugged. “I dunno, but I bet we’re running late.”

“Oh no,” I deadpanned. “That means we’ll have to share the shower.”

Taylor eyed me. “I showered last night. What are you trying to pull?”

“I guess I’m just trying to get you naked and wet. Sue me.”

Taylor laughed loudly. “Well, since you asked nicely… I suppose I could join you. You know, help you clean all those hard to reach places.”

I smirked. “That’s _exactly_ what I had in mind.”

Minutes later, we had both finally pulled ourselves out of bed and made our way to the bathroom. It was so small that we were tripping all over each other as soon as we were inside the door. That didn’t bother me at all; I certainly didn’t need any excuse to get closer to Taylor. I pulled him closer to me while he was still fumbling to take his boxers off, and slipped my own hand inside of them. As soon as my hand wrapped around his dick, Taylor moaned, and I took the opportunity to lean in and capture his bottom lip between my teeth.

I’d never really had the opportunity to learn, but it appeared I was a morning sex kind of person. Judging by his reaction, Taylor seemed to be one as well.

He wasted no time ripping at my clothes, desperately and quickly try to rid me of them. With both of us tearing at them, we were really more counterproductive than anything else, but finally, somehow, all our clothes were in a heap on the floor. I stepped into the shower first, keenly aware of Taylor’s eyes on my body through the tub’s thin, sheer curtain. Knowing he was watching me, not because the process of adjusting the shower’s water temperature was interesting, but because it was _me_ and my body, only made me even harder.

Finally, once I’d adjusted the shower to something a little below scalding, I peeked my head out of the curtain and beckoned for Taylor to join me.

His eyes were sparkling when he stepped into the shower, staring me down like he was a predator and I was his prey. I was all too willing to be caught, though, and I didn’t put up any sort of fight as he backed me against the wall and crushed his lips to mine.

We were halfway under the shower’s spray, and it reminded me of that first time on the bus when I’d no longer been able to resist just taking what I wanted. Taylor had been that brazen for years; why couldn’t I too? The answer was that I could, if I understood the potential consequences. And I did. Anything that felt as good as being with Taylor was worth whatever price.

Our movements in this particular shower lacked any sort of finesse. It was too early and we were too needy for that. I dug my fingernails into his back as he jerked me off harshly and quickly. When he paused and instructed me to turn around, I didn’t even blink. I complied willingly and in a split second.

He slid into me all at once, forcing a low moan from my lips. It hurt, but I loved it. I didn’t need every time to be soft and slow to know how Taylor felt about me. I knew that well enough, and I also knew that this thing between us was built not just on love, but on a deep-seated lust that no one else could ever come close to satisfying. If that meant occasionally being drilled into the wall of some hotel shower, that was more than fine by me.

In contrast with the rest of his movements, Taylor pressed gentle kisses to the base of my neck as he thrust into me. His hand snaked around into the space between me and the wall and wrapped around my dick. With him jerking me off, I didn’t stand much chance of lasting very long.

Sure enough, it was only a matter of minutes before we both came. Taylor cried out behind me, the shower barely muffling the sound. He leaned heavily against me, not stopping his hand or pulling out until my own orgasm came shuddering out of my body, splattering against the wall before it was washed down the drain.

I finished my shower as quickly as I could, considering the fact that my limbs had effectively been turned into jello and Taylor was still in the shower with me, pretending to be helpful. I was sure he was aware that trying to wash my hair for me was only going to turn me on again, but maybe that was the reaction he was going for.

Somehow, we managed to make it out of the shower without having to pause for a second round. We were just finishing repacking our bags when Bex knocked on the door to let us know that bus call was soon.

From there, it was back to normal—whatever that was. It was back to pretending nothing out of the ordinary had happened between us. Even though we weren’t moving at our usual pace, it was still back to business as usual.

After everyone was packed up, we ate lunch and hit the road. It was only a few hours drive to Tulsa… to home. It seemed so much farther away than that. I suppose that was because so much had changed during this tour. I wasn’t really sure how we could possibly go back home like nothing at all had changed since we’d left. I didn’t _want_ to. I didn’t want to act like none of this had happened, and I hoped that Taylor didn’t either.

Taylor spent most of that drive engrossed in a book while I played video games. On the outside, everything seemed normal. If anyone paid us any extra attention, surely they would be able to see the different. Surely they could see how we sat closer than before, how Taylor would idly run his hand up and down my arm or through my hair… how we both just smiled more.

While everyone and everything around us seemed the same, we had changed. I didn’t see any way we could pretend that wasn’t the case. Nothing could ever possibly go back to the way it had been before this tour.

“Well,” Ike said, flopping down on the couch opposite ours. “Tour’s over. This leg, anyway. I think we could _all_ use the break.”

He eyed us pointedly at the last, and I couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes and replying, “Everything is fine, Ike. How many times do we have to tell you we’re fine now?”

Ike shrugged. “Until I tell you to stop, I guess.”

We both rolled our eyes at that, and went back to what we’d been doing before he walked in. Ike was having none of that, though.

“Either way, I think a break will do us all some good. Especially after…”

Tay narrowed his eyes. “After what?”

“Well, after… you know, those rumors…”

I felt Taylor tense beside me and I immediately wanted to punch Ike for upsetting him. Why did he have to bring that up when everything was going so well? I only wished I could do more to comfort Tay than just holding onto his arm.

“I mean, what are you going to do about those pictures?” Ike asked, shoving his foot even farther into his mouth.

I watched Taylor carefully. He was breathing heavily, but otherwise nothing about his appearance showed that anything was wrong. After a moment, he shrugged and said, “Nothing, I guess. I never bothered to address the rumors before. Why start now?”

Isaac had no response for that, and he finally seemed to see fit to drop the subject. With evidently nothing else to talk about, he wandered back toward the front of the bus.

When he was gone, I braced myself for what Taylor would do next. I couldn’t help expecting some sort of meltdown, but none came. His breathing returned to normal and his body relaxed against mine. I still watched closely as he picked his book up, turned the page and resumed reading as though nothing had happened.

“Tay?”

“Hmm?” He asked, his eyes barely flickering my way.

“Nothing… I was just, I mean, are you alright?”

He lowered his book and stared at me blankly. “What, because of what Ike was rambling about?”

I nodded, feeling dumb for even asking.

“I’m fine, Zac,” he said, giving me a smile.

I held his stare for a moment, searching his eyes for any sign that Taylor was lying to me, any sign that he was going to fall apart the second I let my guard down. I could find none.

This was it, I realized. This was the final test, and Taylor had passed.

We were going to be okay.

The rest of the drive home was uneventful, with no more rude interruptions from Isaac. I even managed to nap a little, although I’m sure I would have slept even better if I could have given in and slept right up against Taylor. That seemed too suspicious, though. I had always watched my actions around him, but only for my own protection. Now I had to worry about his, too.

It was my _only_ worry, though, and that made it not seem so bad.

Just as the sun was setting, we arrived in Tulsa. As soon as the first few signs for the city appeared along the highway, I felt like I was home again. I didn’t dread it as much as I thought I would. Taylor and I had changed a lot, but the most recent of those changes were for the better, and it was because of that that I knew everything would be okay.


	34. Home

It’s funny how, when you’re far away from home, something as ordinary as a sunset can look strange and foreign. At home, sunsets are sunrises pass you by, millions in a lifetime without a second thought, but just one foreign sunset can take your breath away.

In the same way, somehow, being away from home for a while can make all the mundane parts of it seem so much more wondrous when you see them again.

When we pulled into Tulsa, the same city skyline I’d seen my whole life seemed magical and beautiful. The orange and pink sky in between the buildings took my breath away, and every street we turned down captured my attention as though I might see something new and different on it.

Tulsa hadn’t changed in one short month, but I had, and I was seeing the same old city with brand new eyes.

I was certain there was a metaphor in there for what had happened between Taylor and I. We began this tour the same guys we had always been, the same brothers who’d breathed the same air for twenty four years. When something—some _one_ to be more accurate—came between us, we suddenly saw each other in a new light. I saw for the first time, a Taylor capable of loving someone other than himself, and Taylor saw someone who loved him in spite of his flaws. The same brother we’d each always known became something new, different and wonderful.

The new luster would wear off Tulsa in a day or two, but I didn’t think Taylor and I would ever look at each other the same way again.

“Earth to Zac,” Taylor said, nudging me with his foot.

I glanced up at him, suddenly realizing that the bus had stopped moving. We were parked by the studio. I wondered how long I’d been lost in thought.

“Come on,” Tay said with a soft laugh, holding out his hand to me.

I grasped his hand and pulled myself up. No one else was around right that second, so I held his hand a little more than was strictly necessary. I couldn’t resist taking advantage of the moment. It was well worth it for the surprisingly shy smile Taylor gave me. He let his thumb brush across the back of my hand for a moment, and I thought he might lean in and kiss me, but he didn’t.

If we were going to make this relationship work, we would have to know when to pick our battles and which risks just weren’t worth taking.

As quickly as it had started, the moment we shared passed, and we fell back into our normal routine. Everyone else was in the process of unpacking the bus, and we joined in, gathering up belongings that were scattered throughout the bus, emptying our bunks and un-stowing suitcases from the bus’s storage area.

No one was moving particularly quickly after so many hours cooped up on a bus, but there was still a fair amount of hustle and bustle going on all around us. I found a strange burst of energy had come over me, and I decided to credit that brief moment with Taylor for it.

That’s how my life would be from now on, I realized. I would have to hang on to every little fleeting moment and tiny bit of attention Taylor paid to me. Those tiny treasures would be the things that sustained me during the long stretches of time when we would have to pretend.

I could do it, though. I had to. If Taylor was willing to try, and it finally seemed that he was, then together I thought we could handle this.

Isaac was the first of us to finish unpacking and go home. With his wife there to help load up his suitcases, he was done in no time. As he and Nikki openly embraced, I couldn’t help feeling a little jealous. That jealousy wasn’t really new. For years, I’d envied anyone who had someone they loved and who loved them back. Now I had that, but it had to be a secret. I would have to get used to that new jealousy. I had no other choice.

Soon enough, the crowd began to thin and there was little for me or anyone else left to do. All my drums had been hauled into the studio and stored, and my bags were piled as neatly as I could manage on the sidewalk. I pulled out my cell phone to call a cab back to my apartment.

“What are you doing?” Taylor asked while I was still thumbing through my contacts for the cab service I could have sworn I’d stored the number to.

“Calling a cab.”

“Why?” Taylor asked.

That gave me a moment’s pause, and I glanced up, waiting for him to explain why he had asked such a stupid question.

“I’ll give you a ride,” he said.

It was then that I remembered that Taylor had driven himself to the studio and left his Range Rover parked behind the studio. I had thought it was foolish to leave it there for so long, but I had no real desire to sit in a cab, even for a few short minutes, so I found myself suddenly very grateful for Taylor’s foolishness.

“Come on,” he said, not even waiting for an answer before heading toward the alley between our studio and the empty building next door.

Working together, we had all of our bags loaded into the back of his truck in no time. A weird silence had descended on us, but it wasn’t necessarily a bad one. I wondered if Taylor was having the same thoughts I’d been having about how strange it was to come home. Maybe he was thinking about the last time we’d come back to Tulsa.

I didn’t ask, but I wondered if he regretted how he’d pushed me away and insisted we spend that time apart. Strangely, I didn’t regret having done it. Everything had worked out, and I wasn’t so sure it was in spite of that. That time apart, however brief, had shed a new light on our feelings—especially Taylor’s.

I would never say something as cliché as “absence makes the heart grow fonder,” but it seemed that was exactly what had happened.

Whatever he was thinking, Taylor remained silent for the duration of the short drive to my apartment. While I didn’t live that far away, it was definitely farther than I wanted to walk with all of my bags. Even if we didn’t say a word, I kind of just liked being able to spend a few more minutes with Taylor.

Now that we were off the road for an entire month, who knew when I would see him again?

I knew, of course, that a single month wasn’t the end of the world, but it was a big change after so many weeks living, more or less literally, on top of each other. I didn’t know how we would handle the time apart now that everything between us had changed.

Once he’d pulled into my parking garage, Taylor was the first of us to speak. “Do you need a hand?”

“Yeah,” I replied.

In all honesty, I probably could have carried the bags myself. Maybe it wouldn’t have been easy, but I could have done it. How could I turn down a little extra time with Taylor, though?

I didn’t notice, until we were inside the apartment, that he’d grabbed a small bag of his own. I recognized it as the one he used as an overnight bag when we stayed at hotels, but my brain still couldn’t quite seem to process what it meant that he was standing in my living room with that bag slung over his shoulder.

“Tay?” I asked, receiving nothing in response but a blank stare. “Umm… exactly what are you doing?”

“Spending the night,” he replied, as if it should have been obvious and I suppose it should have. Looking uncharacteristically sheepish, he added, “I mean, if that’s okay. It’s just, you know, we’ve been… together so much, and my house is just… empty.”

I let out a soft laugh. “You really don’t have to make excuses for staying with me. Just tell me the truth; you want my body.”

Tay rolled his eyes, but grinned. “That’s it. You figured me out, Zac.”

“Well, who wouldn’t want this?” I asked, grinning.

I turned and walked out of the room before Taylor could formulate any kind of smartass reply to that. I knew it would have taken him a while anyway. By the time he appeared in my bedroom doorway, he evidently still hadn’t thought of anything, or he’d decided just to drop the topic of my body.

“Why do you have such a big house for just yourself anyway?” I asked him as I tossed my bag into the bathroom.

Taylor shrugged. “I like my space. My privacy.”

“You like being a diva.” It was more of a joke than an accusation or even a statement, but I still saw a flicker of hurt across Taylor’s face before he managed to compose himself.

“You know I’m not really… well, I _am_ a people person, but I need my own space and my own private time, too.”

I nodded. I knew a part of that, too, was that he didn’t like to get attached to any of the numerous people he surrounded himself with. Taylor kept practically everyone at arm’s length—including, until recently, me.

“I guess maybe that’s changing,” he said.

“You’re growing up,” I teased, nudging him.

Taylor rolled his eyes. “You know, I wouldn’t have asked to spend the night if I had known you were just going to make fun of me.”

“When _don’t_ I make fun of you?”

He smirked and took a step closer to me. “When your mouth is otherwise occupied.”

“Really, Tay?” I asked. “Didn’t you get enough of me this morning?”

“Aww, are you not in the mood? Do you have a headache?” He asked, still smirking. “I was just kidding, anyway. I’m pretty sure the whole tour just caught up with me. I could probably lay down now and sleep for a week.”

I chuckled. “Well, how about some dinner first, and then we can go into hibernation? And takeout better be fine by you, because there’s probably nothing in that kitchen that you couldn’t make penicillin from right now.”

“That’s fine by me,” Taylor replied, still laughing as he followed me back through the apartment.

We settled on pizza, since we could eat the leftovers for breakfast like the slobs we were, and soon enough we were cuddled up on the couch with our dinner. It felt like we were a real couple… and for the first time I realized that we were.

Maybe not a _normal_ couple, but a real one nevertheless.

Even though I wasn’t as full of worries as Taylor, I couldn’t help wondering what the future held for us. As we settled into bed together, I wondered just how many times we would be able to do that. More often, I knew, we would have to watch our backs and pretend not to be exactly what we were.

It was kind of daunting and scary to think about, but I didn’t think I would have wanted it any other way.

We weren’t normal but we were okay. Laying there with my arms wrapped around Taylor, I felt more okay and more at home than I had in years… maybe ever.


End file.
